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THE 



LADY OF THE LAKE 



BY 



SIR WALTER SCOTT, Bart. 



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SHOin>G LOCALITIES 

MENTIONED IN 

"THE LADY OF THE LAKE" 



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ENGLISH CLASSICS FOR SCHOOLS 



THE 



LADY OF THE LAKE 



BY 



SIR WALTER 'SCOTT, Bart. 



NEW YORK • : • CINCINNATI • : • CHICAGO J 

AMERICAN BOOK COMPANY 
1893 



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Copyright, 1893, by 
American Book Company. 



Lady of Lake. 



INTRODUCTION. 



Walter Scott, the ninth of a family of twelve children, was 
born at Edinburgh in August, 1771. His first consciousness of 
existence dated from the time when he was sent, a lame, delicate 
child, to Sandyknowe, the residence of his paternal grandfather. 
Here he " was often carried out and laid down beside the old 
shepherd among the crags or rocks round which he fed his 
sheep." If Scott's genius was late in flowering, who can say 
that the budding did not begin in that early, close companionship 
with the Highland country which he was to reproduce so vividly 
in his verse and fiction? 

With strength increased by open-air life, although still slightly 
lame, we find him later a sturdy, active, not over-studious boy 
at school at Edinburgh and Kelso, and at fifteen beginning in 
his father's office the legal studies which he continued at the 
university. 

Referring to the time after leaving the high school, when he 
made the acquaintance of Tasso's "Jerusalem Delivered," Percy's 
" Reliques," and the best works of English fiction, Scott says, 
"To this period I can trace distinctly the awakening of that 
delightful feeling for the beauties of natural objects which has 
never deserted me. From this time the love of natural beauty, 

5 



6 INTRODUCTION. 

more especially when combined with ancient ruins or remains of 
our fathers' piety or splendor, became within me an insatiable 
passion, which, if circumstances had permitted, I would wiUingly 
have gratified by traveling half over the globe." 

His gigantic memory had always appropriated most eagerly 
the heroic and romantic elements of verse, tale, and history, from 
the days when, a child, he read Pope's translation of Homer 
aloud to his mother, to the time when he hunted ballads and 
chased traditions with the keen zest of a scholar and an antiquary. 

The first notable outcome of these researches was his ** Min- 
strelsy of the Scottish Border," pubhshed in 1802. To this col- 
lection of ancient Border ballads, which he had spent years in 
collecting, were added some spirited new ones which he had deftly 
shaped to the old models. This form of poetic expression was 
especially suited to the genius of Scott, and the class of subjects 
to which it was usually adapted had long been the object of his 
enthusiastic study. 

The amplification, then, of the ballad to the proportions of the 
more pretentious metrical romance came by a natural process of 
crystallization of the elements of a rare power, profound research, 
and inspiring themes. 

The first of the more ambitious eflPorts of Scott was the " Lay 
of the Last Minstrel," which was published in 1805. This be- 
came immediately and generally popular, and paved the way for 
the favorable reception of later productions. In 1808 " Mar- 
mion," the greatest poetical work of Scott, appeared. This was 
so enthusiastically received, that a certain friend urged him to 
be satisfied with such unexampled success, and refrain from pub- 
lishing anything more, lest he impair his prestige. To this he 
repHed, "If I fail, it is a sign that I ought never to have sue- 



INTRODUCTION. 7 

ceeded, and I will write prose for life : you shall see no change 

in my temper, nor will I eat a single meal the worse. But if I 

succeed, 

" ' Up with the bonnie blue bonnet, 
The dirk, and the feather, and a' ! ' " 

In this confident, buoyant spirit he made another venture, 
" The Lady of the Lake," published in 1810 ; and its extraordi- 
nary success justified his expectations. How sincere and wide- 
spread was the enthusiastic appreciation of this poem may be 
judged from the following instance, mentioned in Lockhart's 
" Life of Scott :" " In the course of the day, when * The Lady of 
the Lake ' first reached Sir Adam Fergusson, he was posted with 
his company on a point of ground exposed to the enemy's artil- 
lery, somewhere, no doubt, on the lines of Torres Vedras. The 
men were ordered to lie prostrate on the ground. While they 
kept that attitude, the captain, kneeling at the head, read aloud 
the description of the -battle in Canto VL, and the listening sol- 
diers only interrupted him by a joyous huzza when the French 
shot struck the bank close above them." We are not surprised 
at the soldierly tribute to the power of a poet " through whose 
head a regiment of horse had been exercising since he was five 
years old," whose sympathies had always been in touch with 
heroic achievement and chivalrous enterprise, and whose poems 
rang "with the quick, metrical tramp of his own moss-troopers;" 
but this was only a fractional though precious part of the applause 
that greeted him. "The whole country rang with the praises of 
the poet ; crowds set off to view the scenery of Loch Katrine, till 
then comparatively unknown ; and, as the book came out just be- 
fore the season for excursions, every house and inn in that neigh- 
borhood was crammed with a constant succession of visitors." 



8 hXTKODUCTION. 

Scott, in speaking of this poem, says, " The ancient manners, 
the habits and customs, of the aboriginal race by whom the 
Highlands of Scotland were inhabited, had always appeared to 
me peculiarly adapted to poetry. The change in their manners, 
too, had taken place almost within my own time, or at least I 
had learned many particulars concerning the ancient state of the 
Highlands from the old men of the last generation. I had also 
read a great deal, seen much, and heard more, of the romantic 
country where I was in the habit of spending every autumn ; 
and the scenery of Loch Katrine was connected with the recol- 
lection of many a dear friend and merry expedition of former 
days. This poem, the action of which lay among scenes so 
beautiful, and so deeply imprinted upon my recollections, was a 
labor of love ; and it was no less so to recall the manners and 
incidents introduced. The frequent custom of James IV., and 
particularly of James V., of walking through the kingdom in dis- 
guise, afforded me the hint of an incident which never fails to 
be interesting if managed with the slightest address or dexterity." 

The high-water mark of Scott's popularity as a poet was 
reached with "The Lady of the Lake." In 1813 he published 
" Rokeby," and in 18 14 "The Lord of the Isles." In the latter 
year "Waverley" appeared anonymously; and with this prose 
romance began Scott's career as a novelist, which extended 
through fourteen years. In this period of time he wrote twenty- 
three novels, besides some other works of minor importance. 

" The land of the lakes and the mountains, and of the brave 
men," as the old Scots called their country, included the two 
great divisions, the Highlands and the Borders, which were 
so much wilder and more barbarous than the others, that they 



INTRODUCTION. 9 

might be said to be altogether without law. Although nominally 
subject to the King of Scotland, yet they were so untamable 
that the enforcement of justice was almost as difficult as the 
subjugation of a foreign people. 

The Highlands, rocky and mountainous parts of the country, 
comprised a large share of the north of Scotland. It was into 
these pathless wilds that the Romans drove the ancient Britons, 
and it was from these retreats that the fugitives afterward salhed 
forth to harass their conquerors. 

The language of the Highlands, the Gaelic, was totally differ- 
ent from that of the Lowlands, which resembled English. The 
dress of the mountaineers also differed from that of the Low- 
landers. They wore a plaid or mantle of frieze, or of a striped 
stuff called tartan, one end of which, being wrapped around the 
waist, formed a short petticoat, which descended to the knee, 
while the rest they folded around them like a sort of cloak. Their 
feet were covered with buskins made of rawhide ; and the 
usual head covering was a cap called a " bonnet." They went 
always armed. Their weapons were bows and arrows, large 
swords, poleaxes, and daggers for close fight. For defense they 
had a round wooden shield, or target, stuck full of nails, and 
their great men had shirts of mail composed of links of iron. 
The common men sometimes wore a jacket of leather, having 
plates of metal stitched into it, but usually had no armor. 

The Highlanders were divided into clans or tribes. All mem- 
bers of a clan supposed themselves to be descended from the 
same common ancestor, whose name distinguished them from 
other clans. Thus, one tribe was called MacDonald, which 
signifies the sons of Donald ; another MacGregor, the sons of 
Gregor ; MacNeil, the sons of Neil ; and so on. They yielded 



lo INTRODUCTION. 

unquestioning obedience to their chief, even when their submis- 
sion to his orders impHed disloyalty to the King. Each tribe 
had its own special territory, any invasion of which was punished 
as severely as though the foe had been of another nationahty. 
Macaulay says of the sentiment that actuated them, " Their in- 
tense attachment to their own tribe and to their own patriarch, 
though politically an evil, partook of the nature of virtue. The 
sentiment was misdirected and ill-regulated, but still it was heroic. 
There must be some elevation of soul in a man who loves the 
society of which he is a member, and the leader whom he follows, 
with a love stronger than the love of life. It was true that the 
Highlander had few scruples about shedding the blood of an 
enemy ; but it was not less true that he had high notions of the 
duty of observing faith to allies, and hospitality to guests." 

The Highlanders were continually at war with the Lowlanders. 
They did not regard their plundering raids upon the richer 
grounds of the Lowlands as robbery, but as rightful recovery of 
possessions which had been wrongfully wrested from their ances- 
tors. The Lowlanders, equal in courage and superior in disci- 
pline, could not be easily overcome, and thus there was almost 
constant war or discord between them. 

Some of the more powerful Highland chiefs set themselves up 
as independent sovereigns, and even made alliances with the 
Enghsh in their own name. Macaulay says that " national en- 
mities have always been fiercest among Borderers ; and the en- 
mity between the Highland Borderer and the Lowland Borderer 
along the whole frontier was the growth of ages, and was kept 
fresh by constant injuries." The Borderers were also divided 
into clans, and their devotion to their chieftain was complete. 
From their proximity to England, and their frequent incursions 



INTR OD UC TION. 1 1 

into its territory, they added to the perplexities of Scottish rule, 
which were already great by reason of constant internal dissension. 

The Highlanders fought always on foot : the Borderers were all 
horsemen. The Borderers spoke the same language as the Low- 
landers, wore the same sort of dress, and carried the same arms. 
Being accustomed to fight against the English, they were also much 
better disciplined than the Highlanders ; but, in point of obedi- 
ence, they were not much different from the clans of the north. 

Military officers, called " wardens," were appointed along the 
Borders to keep these unruly people in order; but, as these 
wardens were generally chiefs of clans, they did not do much to 
mend the evil. The good Lord James of Douglas was intrusted 
with a great part of the charge of the Borders by Robert the 
Bruce. He was faithful to his trust, but the clan thus acquired 
power which was afterward dangerous to the country. 

The hostihty between the Highlanders and the Lowlanders 
was only equaled by the hatred both felt toward their Saxon 
neighbors, and it was not till 1745 that Scotland was subjugated 
by England. The conquest was so complete that even the 
national dress was abohshed. The old GaeHc institutions and 
manners were modified, and the power of the clan chieftain was 
broken. With the last struggle of the exiled Stuart party, which 
ended in defeat at Culloden, began a new era for Scotland. To 
the old reign of lawlessness and disorder succeeded measures 
that were wisely coercive, and which finally secured a unity of 
Scottish interests, and greatly augmented prosperity in the entire 
kingdom. 

In August, 1502, James IV. of Scotland married Princess 
Margaret Tudor, sister of Henry VII L of England. It was 



1 2 IN TROD UCriON. 

hoped that this alliance would be the means of ending the bitter 
hostility which had existed between Scotland and England since 
the time of Edward I. A temporary peace ensued, but it was 
not till a century later that a descendant of the Scottish James 
sat on the throne of England. 

The only son of James IV. and Margaret who survived in- 
fancy was James V. (James Fitz-James of the poem). He was 
born in 1513, and crowned when less than ten years old, his 
father having been slain at the battle of Flodden Field, which 
had resulted so disastrously for Scotland. 

By the will of James IV., Margaret was to be queen regent as 
long as she remained a widow. In 15 14 she lost the regency 
and greatly impaired her influence by marrying Archibald 
Douglas, Earl of Angus. Bitter enmity already existed between 
the head of the Douglas clan and other Scottish nobles ; and, 
when Angus had the added dignity of being the husband of the 
queen regent, the jealousy and rivalry were greatly increased. 

After losing the regency, Margaret was obhged to surrender 
the control of her son to Parhament. The Duke of Albany, the 
younger son of James III., was appointed regent during the 
minority of the King. Albany, who had spent many years at the 
luxurious court of France, returned to his native country with no 
appreciation of its real needs, and little sympathy with the Scotch. 
He failed to administer the government in a satisfactory manner. 
Angus plotted to secure control of affairs, and to gain custody 
of the young King. He assumed all the authority of a regent, 
without possessing any claim to the title, and kept James under 
close guard while pretending to govern the realm in his name. 

The King was very restive under this irksome and unlawful 
restraint, and sympathized strongly with efforts which were made 



IN TROD UCTWN. 1 3 

for his release. In 1526 two armed attempts were made to 
liberate him. Both resulted in failure. What could not be ac- 
complished by force was finally secured by a cleverly planned 
stratagem of the royal captive ; and he escaped to Stirling Castle, 
where devoted adherents awaited him. Two months later, Par- 
liament declared the estates of the Douglases forfeited to the 
Crown, and there was neither place nor grace left in Scotland for 
any bearing the obnoxious name. 

James even extended his animosity to one Archibald Douglas 
of Kilspendie ( the Douglas of the poem), to whom he had been 
greatly attached. A touching story is told of the return of the 
old man, who had grown weary of his exile in England, and 
longed for a sight of Scotland and the former friendly regard 
of the King, whom he had never personally offended. He was 
doomed to undeserved disappointment, however, as James was 
unrelenting in his resentment, and would not modify any of the 
harsh conditions of his oath against the hated Douglas clan. 

Although one of the most formidable obstacles to the exercise 
of royal rule disappeared with the crushing of the power of the 
Douglases, James still met much opposition from the nobility. 

There were many abuses connected with the irregular rule 
exercised during his minority, and portions of the kingdom were in 
a condition of great lawlessness, which made it necessary for him 
to resort to severe measures. A five-years' truce was concluded 
with England in 1528, which allowed him to devote himself to 
the internal interests of Scotland. The following year he began 
to reduce the rebelHous Borders to submission. By force and by 
craft he brought them into his power, putting to death many of 
the great nobles, and greatly limiting the privileges of those he 
allowed to live, until some degree of order was established. 



1 4 IN TROD UC TION. 

After he had subdued the Borders, he proceeded against the 
Highland chieftains with equal rigor. The insubordination which 
had prevailed in that part of Scotland yielded to the unspar- 
ing severity of James, and life and property became measiurably 
secure. 

The King was greatly aided in the execution of his plans by 
the clergy, whom he favored in many ways, especially by coun- 
tenancing the repression of heresy, — a course quite contrary to 
that pursued by his uncle, Henry VHI. 

Popular sentiment also supported this " King of the Commons," 
as he was called from his habit of mingling with the common 
people, and taking a practical interest in their welfare. He was 
accustomed to travel over the kingdom in disguise, that he might 
learn the true condition of his subjects, and investigate the ad- 
ministration of justice. This custom, added to his fondness for 
hunting, gave him an intimate acquaintance with his kingdom 
and his people. 

Scott says of him, " He was handsome in his person, and re- 
sembled his father in the fondness for military exercises and the 
spirit of chivalrous honor which James IV. loved to display. He 
also inherited his father's love of justice, and his desire to establish 
and enforce wise and equal laws. ... He was a well-educated 
and accomplished man, and, like his ancestor James I., was a 
poet and a musician. He had, however, his defects. He avoided 
his father's faihng of profusion, having no hoarded treasures to 
employ on pomp and show, but he rather fell into the opposite 
fault, being of a temper too parsimonious ; and, though he loved 
state and display, he endeavored to gratify that taste as eco- 
nomically as possible, so that he has been censured as rather 
close and covetous. ... It must be added, that, when provoked, 



IN TROD UC 77 ON. 1 5 

he was unrelenting even to cruelty ; for which he had some 
apology, considering the ferocity of the subjects over whom he 
reigned. But, on the whole, James V. was an amiable man and 
a good sovereign." 

Henry VIII. endeavored to enlist the aid of James in an 
organized resistance to the authority of the Romish Church. 
The Scottish King apparently favored, in a measure, his uncle's 
poHcy ; but his alHance with France restored and increased his 
adherence to papal rule. 

The failure of James to keep an appointment made for meet- 
ing King Henry at York offended the latter, who accused him 
of deahng treacherously, and declared war against Scotland. 
Many of the Scottish nobles were disaffected, and the army was 
disorganized. At Solway Moss, James was openly defied by his 
nobility. Scott says regarding this bitter humihation, " He shut 
himself up in the palace of Falkland, and refused to listen to any 
consolation. A burning fever, the consequence of his grief and 
shame, seized on the unfortunate monarch. They brought him 
tidings that his wife had given birth to a daughter ; but he only 
replied, * Is it so? ' reflecting on the alliance which had placed the 
Stuart family on the throne. * Then God's will be done. It came 
with a lass, and it will go with a lass.' With these words, presag- 
ing the extinction of his house, he made a signal of adieu to his 
courtiers, spoke little more, but turned his face to the wall, and 
died [ 1 542] of the most melancholy of all diseases, a broken heart." 

The story of "The Lady of the Lake " is briefly as follows : — 
Canto First. — A huntsman who has distanced his com- 
panions and lost his steed, which, urged beyond endurance, has 
fallen dead in the Trosachs, has finally wandered over rocky 



i6 INTRODUCTION. 

ways to the shore of Loch Katrine. Here he winds his horn, 
hoping the sounds may reach his comrades. In response, a skiff 
appears rowed by a maiden, who thinks the blast was from her 
father's horn. Ahhough at first startled, she is reassured by the 
"wildered wanderer's" explanation, and proffers the hospitality 
of her father's dwelling. They row across the lake to the island 
home, where, in the absence of the chieftain, Ellen, and the mis- 
tress of the mansion, the graceful Dame Margaret, dispense true 
Highland hospitality. He styles himself Knight of Snowdoun, 
James Fitz- James, but fails to learn the names of his hosts. 
" The stranger's bed of heather " was spread for the tired hunts- 
man ; but his rest was disturbed by " broken dreams," in which 
the exiled Douglases played a prominent part. 

Canto Second. — The stranger takes his leave in the early 
morning. Allan, the old minstrel, tunes his harp to a parting song, 
and Ellen watches the knight " wind slowly round the hill." Then, 
chiding herself for a momentary interest in him, she bids Allan 
sing in praise of the Graemes, one of whom is her lover. The old 
man is brooding over the ominous fallen sword, and cannot re- 
spond. He foresees the demand of Roderick Dhu, and distrusts 
the parting guest. Their conversation is interrupted by the music 
of the pibroch and the boat-song, which precede the landing of 
her cousin Roderick Dhu and his rough followers. Lady Mar- 
garet and her maids come to meet him. Ellen, quite wiUing to 
avoid her cousin, eagerly responds to her father's bugle horn, and 
hastens to meet him in her skiff. Malcolm Grseme accompanies 
him. Roderick is informed that the King is preparing to deal 
with the Highland freebooters as severely as he has already done 
with the Border chieftains, and that the retreat of the outlawed 
Douglas has been discovered. Douglas is ready to withdraw 



I NT ROD UC TION. i 7 

with his daughter, thus lessening the danger of Roderick. The 
latter demands his alHance and the hand of his daughter. Both 
are refused by Douglas. A contest arises between Roderick and 
Graeme, which results in the departure of the latter for the main- 
land, which he reaches by swimming from the island. 

Canto Third. — On the following morning occurs the conse- 
cration, with weird ritual, of the Fiery Cross. Roderick sends it 
forth by his henchman Malise to summon his followers to a gath- 
ering in Lanrick mead. It is borne eastward, passing from 
band to band, stopping for neither bridal nor burial, till the entire 
clan is summoned to the appointed place. The same morning 
Douglas departs with his daughter and Allan-Bane to seek refuge 
in the Goblin-cave on the side of Benvenue. Roderick passes 
the cavern on his way to the rally in Lanrick mead, and listens, as 
he lingers, to the sound of Ellen's voice in a hymn to the Virgin. 

Canto Fourth. — The Highland clans have responded to the 
summons of the Fiery Cross. The Lowlanders are at Doune, 
ready to advance. Brian, the hermit monk, has tried a strange 
augury to determine on which side success shall be. He prophe- 
sies that that party shall be victorious which first sheds blood. 
Meantime Douglas has left his cavern retreat on some mission not 
made known to Ellen and Allan- Bane. They are instructed, 
however, to meet him at Cambus-kenneth if he does not return 
by nightfall. Ellen is anxious for her father's safety, believing 
he has gone to secure the release of Malcolm Graeme. She 
scarcely heeds the song of Allan-Bane, who endeavors to cheer 
her. While they are speaking, Fitz-James appears. He de- 
clares his love for Ellen, and urges her to escape with him to 
Stirling. She replies by a frank avowal of her love for Mal- 
colm Graeme. The knight's sympathy is enlisted, and he leaves 

2 



1 8 INTRODUCTION^ 

with her a ring, given him by the King for saving his Hfe. This, 
he says, if presented to the King, will secure his protection 
for her and hers. Ellen and Allan-Ban© endeavor to warn 
Fitz-James against the guide who departs with him. Their 
suspicions are confirmed by Blanche of Devan, a woman who 
has been half crazed since Roderick Dhu murdered her bride- 
groom in a wild Lowland raid. Her incoherent song is meant 
as a warning to the wandering knight in-^the Lowland dress. 
He charges Murdoch with treacherous intent. The guide seeks 
to escape, but not without aiming an arrow at Fitz-James. It 
grazes his crest, and lodges in the heart of Blanche of Devan. 
Fitz-James slays Murdoch, and returns to soothe the dying 
maniac. He promises to avenge her, and fastens to his bonnet 
a braid of her own and her bridegroom's hair, which he has 
dipped in* her blood. Continuing his way alone after nightfall, 
he comes upon the camp fire of a stranger, who gives him shelter 
till morning, when he promises to lead him on his journey. 

Canto Fifth. — After a night's rest and a hasty "soldier 
meal " in the morning, the Gael conducts his guest on his way, 
in accordance with his promise and Highland custom. Fitz- 
James allays the mountaineer's apprehension of an attack by 
the King, but declares his hostility to Roderick Dhu, and avows 
his eagerness to meet him in combat. The guide is incensed at 
this, and sounds a signal which brings to sight armed men on 
every side. He then reveals himself as Roderick Dhu. He is 
bound by his word to conduct his guest to Coilantogle ford, 
and therefore dismisses his followers. When this place is 
reached, Roderick challenges Fitz-James, and a deadly combat 
ensues. Throwing away his shield, that his arms may not ex- 
ceed those of his adversarv, he trusts to his sword alone. Fitz- 



IN TROD UCTION. 1 9 

James is superior to his enemy through his knowledge of fen- 
cing, and finally overpowers him. 

Fitz-James winds his horn, which is answered by four mounted 
attendants. He leaves the wounded man with two of them, 
with orders to bring him to Stirling, and hastens towards the 
Castle with the others. As they approach it, they perceive 
Douglas, who comes to surrender himself to the King, hoping 
thereby to secure the release of Malcolm Graeme and avert the 
danger that threatens Roderick Dhu. The town is preparing 
for the burghers' sports, in which Douglas decides to join in 
order that he may attract the attention of the King. He sur- 
passes all other competitors, and receives the prize from the 
King, who does not recognize him. Douglas endures this in 
silence, but he cannot refrain from resenting a huntsman's cruelty 
to Lufra, the hound, Ellen's companion. This results in his being 
seized and taken as a prisoner to the Castle. Meantime a mes- 
senger brings to the King tidings of the rising of Clan-Alpine- 
He sends a hasty message to avert an encounter, as Roderick 
is already his prisoner m. Stirling stronghold. 

Canto Sixth. — " This canto introduces us to the guard room 
in Stirling Castle, amid the remains of the debauch which has 
followed the games of the previous day. While the few soldiers 
who remain awake are finishing their carouse, and talking over 
the rumors of yesterday's battle, they are joined by one of their 
mates, who has been in the field, and brings with him a maiden 
and a minstrel (Ellen and Allan-Bane). They are at first dis- 
posed to treat the maiden roughly ; but the sight of her innocent 
beauty, and her story of misfortune, touch the heart of one 
of the roughest in the company, who becomes her champion. 
Presently they are joined by the officer of the guard, who, at first 



20 INTRODUCTION. 

sight of Fitz-James's ring, commits the lady to proper care, while 
John of Brent, the guardsman who had interfered, grants Allan's 
request to see his master ; but, fancying that the minstrel is one 
of Roderick's clansmen, he shows him into the wrong cell, where 
he finds the wounded chief. After anxious inquiries as to the 
safety of his kindred, Roderick asks anew of the fight ; and the 
minstrel, in spirited verse, sings of the battle of Beal' an Duine, 
whose issue was left doubtful by the arrival of a messenger from 
the King wnth orders to stay the fight. But before he had fin- 
ished his song the stern spirit had fled, and the minstrel's harp 
changes its tune from battle song to death dirge. 

*' Meanwhile Ellen waits anxiously and impatiently for her 
audience with the King. At last Fitz-James appears to escort 
her to the audience chamber. Faltering, she looks round to find 
the King, and sees, to her surprise, that her companion alone 
remains covered, and ' Snowdoun's Knight is Scotland's King.' 
He tells her how the feud with Douglas is at an end, and that 
her father is now to be * the friend and bulwark of his throne.' 
But she still has the ring, still some boon to ask. She begs for 
Roderick's life, but that is past giving ; and when she shrinks 
from further request, the King calls forth Malcolm, and throws 
over him a golden chain, which he gives to Ellen to keep." — 
R. W. Taylor. 



THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 



CANTO FIRST. 

THE CHASE. 



HARP of the North ! ^ that raoldering long hast hung 
On the witch-elm - that shades St. Fillan's "' spring, 
And down the fitful breeze thy numbers flung, 

Till envious ivy did around thee cling, 
Muffling with verdant ringlet every string, — 

O minstrel Harp ! still must thine accents sleep ? 
Mid rustling leaves and fountain's murmuring. 

Still must thy sweeter sounds their silence keep, 
Nor bid a warrior smile, nor teach a maid to weep ? 

Not thus, in ancient days of Caledon,* 

Was thy voice mute amid the festal crowd. 

When lay of hopeless love, or glory won. 
Aroused the fearful, or subdued the proud. 

1 The poet invokes the spirit that animated the ancient Scottish minstrels, 
whose songs were usually accompanied by the music of the harp. 

2 Called also the " wizard elm," because forked twigs from the tree were 
used as divining rods. 

3 A Scotch abbot of the seventh century. 

4 The Romans gave the name Caledonia to that part of Scotland north of 
the Clyde and Forth. 

21 



22 6-/7^ WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

At each according pause, was heard aloud 

Thine ardent symphony subhme and high ! 
Fair dames and crested chiefs attention bow'd ; 

For still the burden of thy minstrelsy 
Was Knighthood's dauntless deed, and Beauty's matchless eye. 

Oh, wake once more I how rude soe'er the hand 

That ventures o'er thy magic maze to stray ; 
Oh, wake once more ! though scarce my skill command 

Some feeble echoing of thine earlier lay : 
Though harsh and faint, and soon to die away, 

And all unworthy of thy nobler strain, 
Yet if one heart throb higher at its sway, 

The wizard note has not been touch'd in vain. 
Then silent be no more ! Enchantress, wake again ! 



The stag at eve had drunk his fill, 

Where danced the moon on Monan's ^ rill, 

And deep his midnight lair had made 

In lone Glenartney's^ hazel shade; 

But, when the sun his beacon red 

Had kindled on Benvoirlich's ^ head, 

The deep-mouth'd bloodhound's heavy bay 

Resounded up the rocky way, 

And faint, from farther distance borne, 

Were heard the clanging hoof and horn. 

II. 

As Chief, who hears his warder -"^ call, 
" To arms ! the foemen storm the wall," 

1 St. Monan was a Scotch monk of the fourth century. The rill cannot be 
identified. 2 gee map, p. 2. 

3 For the meaning of technical terms, colloquialisms, and unusual words 
not to be found in a school dictionary, see Glossary at the end of volume. 



THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 25 

The antler' d monarch of the waste 

Sprung from his heathery 1 couch in haste. 

But, ere his fleet career he took, 

The dewdrops from his flanks he shook ; 

Like crested leader proud and high, 

Toss'd his beam'd ^ frontlet to the sky ; 

A moment gazed adown the dale, 

A moment snuff'd the tainted gale,^ 

A moment listen'd to the cry, 

That thicken'd as the chase drew nigh ; 

Then, as the headmost foes appear'd, 

With one brave bound the copse he clear'd, 

And, stretching forward free and far. 

Sought the wild heaths of Uam-Var.* 

III. 

Yell'd on the view the opening^ pack; 
Rock, glen, and cavern, paid them back ; 
To many a mingled sound at once 
The awaken'd mountain gave response. 
A hundred dogs bay 'd deep and strong, 
Clatter'd a hundred steeds along, 
Their peal the merry horns rung out, 
A hundred voices join'd the shout ; 
With hark and whoop and wild halloo, 
No rest Benvoirlich's echoes knew. 
Far from the tumult fled the roe. 
Close in her covert cower'd the doe. 



1 The heath or heather is a small evergreen shrub very common in the 
Scottish Highlands. 

2 The head of a stag is said to be beamed after its fourth-year horns appear. 

3 " Tainted gale," i.e., the wind scented with the odor of the pursuers. 
* See map, p. 2. 

5 A pack of hounds is said to " open " when the dogs begin to bark, upon 
recovering the scent or catching sight of the game. 



24 S//^ WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

The falcon, from her cairn on high, 
Cast on the rout ^ a wondering eye, 
Till far beyond her piercing ken ^ 
The hurricane had swept the glen. 
Faint, and more faint, its failing din 
Rcturn'd from cavern, cliff, and linn,^ 
And silence settled, wide and still, 
On the lone wood and mighty hill. 

IV. 

Less loud the sounds of silvan war 
Disturb'd the heights of Uam-Var, 
And roused the cavern, where, 'tis told, 
A giant made his den of old ; 
For ere that steep ascent was won, 
High in his pathway hung the sun. 
And many a gallant, stay'd perforce, 
Was fain to breathe his faltering horse, 
And of the trackers of the deer, 
Scarce half the lessening pack was near ; 
So shrewdly 4 on the mountain side 
Had the bold burst their mettle tried. 

V. 

The noble stag was pausing now 
Upon the mountain's southern brow, 
Where broad extended, far beneath, 
The varied realms of fair Menteith.^ 
With anxious eye he wander'd o'er 
Mountain and meadow, moss and moor, 



1 A confused or boisterous gathering. 2 Sight. 

3 A deep pool. 4 Severely. 

5 Or Monteith, a picturesque district of Scotland watered by the river 
Teith. 



I.] THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 25 

And ponder'd refuge from his toil, 
By far Lochard or Aberfoyle. 
But nearer was the copsewood gray, 
That waved and wept on Loch Achray, 
And mingled with the pine trees blue 
On the bold cliffs of Benvenue. 
Fresh vigor with the hope return'd. 
With flying foot the heath he spurn'd. 
Held westward with unwearied race, 
And left behind the panting chase. 

VI. 

'Twere long to tell what steeds gave o'er, 
As swept the hunt through Cambus-more ; ^ 
What reins were tighten'd in despair, 
When rose Benledi's ridge in air ; 
Who flagg'd upon Bochastle's heath, 
Who shunn'd to stem the flooded Teith, — 
For twice that day, from shore to shore. 
The gallant stag swam stoutly o'er. 
Few were the stragglers, following far. 
That reach'd the lake of Vennachar ; 
And when the Brigg 2 of Turk was won, 
The headmost horseman rode alone. 

VII. 

Alone, but with unbated zeal. 

That horseman plied the scourge and steel ; ^ 

For jaded now, and spent with toil, 

Emboss'd with foam, and dark with soil, 

While every gasp with sobs he drew, 

The laboring stag strain'd full in view. 

1 An estate about two miles from Callander on the wooded banks of the 
Keltic. 2 Bridge. 3 Spur. 



26 S/J^ WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

Two dogs of black St. Hubert's breed, 

Unmatch'd for courage, breath, and speed, 

Fast on his flying traces came. 

And all but won that desperate game ; 

For, scarce a spear's length from his haunch, 

Vindictive toil'd the bloodhounds stanch ; 

Nor nearer might the dogs attain, 

Nor farther might the quarry strain. 

Thus up the margin of the lake. 

Between the precipice and brake, i 

O'er stock 2 and rock their race they take. 

VIII. 

The Hunter mark'd that mountain ^ high, 
The lone lake's western boundary, 
And deem'd the stag m.ust turn to bay,'* 
Where that huge rampart barr'd the way ; 
Already glorying in the prize, • 
Measured his antlers with his eyes ; 
For the death wound and death halloo, 
Muster'd his breath, his whinyard drew ; — 
But thundering as he came prepared, 
With ready arm and weapon bared, 
The wily quarry shunn'd the shock, 
And turn'd him fromi the opposing rock ; 
Then, dashing down a darksome glen, 
Soon lost to hound and Hunter's ken. 
In the deep Trosachs' ^ wildest nook 
His solitary refuge took. 
There, while close couch'd, the thicket shed 

1 Thicket ; underbrush. 2 The trunk of a tree. ^ Ben Venue. 

* "Turn to bay," i.e., to face an antagonist when escape is no longer 
possible. 

^ " The Trosachs " is the name now applied to the valley between Lochs 
Katrine and Achray. 



\ THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 27 

Cold dews and wild flowers on his head, 
He heard the baffled dogs in vain 
Rave through the hollow pass amain, 
Chiding the rocks that yell'd ^ again. 

IX. 

Close on the hounds the Hunter came. 
To cheer them on the vanish'd game ; 
But, stumbling on- the rugged dell, 
The gallant horse exhausted fell. 
The impatient rider strove in vain 
To rouse him with the spur and rein. 
For the good steed, his labors o'er, 
Stretch'd his stiff limbs, to rise no more ; 
Then, touch'd with pity and remorse. 
He sorrow'd o'er the expiring horse. 
" I Httle thought, when first thy rein 
I slack'd upon the banks of Seine,^ 
That Highland eagle e'er should feed 
On thy fleet limbs, my matchless steed ! 
Woe worth * the chase, woe worth the day. 
That costs thy life, my gallant gray ! " 

X. 

Then through the dell his horn resounds. 
From vain pursuit to call the hounds. 
Back limp'd, with slow and crippled pace. 
The sulky leaders, of the chase ; 
Close to their master's side they press'd. 
With drooping tail and humbled crest ; 
But still the dingle's hollow throat 
Prolong'd the swelling bugle note. 

1 Echoed back their barks or chidings. 2 in. 

3 The river which flows through Paris, France. 

4 Be to (from the old verb wortken, " to become "). 



TW owlets started from their dream, 
ll>e eagles answ'^r'd with their scream, 
RouTid and arouiid the souixk were CAst 
Till echo seem'd a.n ajiswering blast ; 
Aud on the Hmiter hied his way,^ 
To jom soisie comrades of die day ; 
Yet often panned, so strange the road, 
And wondious were die scenes it show'd, 

T*he western wax^es of ebbang dav 
RoTd o'er tiie gkn ihear fc\^l T^^y ; 2 
EsMJi puple pxail^ each fSmty spire. 
Was baulMd m floods of living fire. 
But not a setung beam could glow 
Within dte daik ravines below, 
Wh^e twined tlie path in shadow hid, 
Ronnd many a rocky pyiamid^ 
^^nootiqg abrapify from the ddl 
Its tdnrndersspUnterM pinnacle ; 
Round many an insulated^ mass, 
Tbe native bolwaiks of the pass, 
Huge as the tower * which builders rain 
Presomptooos piled on Shinar^ plain. 
Tlie rocky sommits, split and rent, 
Form'd tuiret, dome, or battlement, 
Or seem'd fantastkally set 
With cupola cs: mmaret. 
Wild crests as pagod ^ ever deck'd. 
Or mosque of E^astem architect, 

1 ""' Hied his way," i e., hasteaied, 

2 "■' Tlie western watcs,"" etc, i.e., the homontal rays of die settng s«n. 
s Isoibted. 

* Tl»e Tower of Babel (see Gen, xi i-g), 

* Tfce njny-stoneid tower-lake temples of the CSunese and Hindoos are 



] THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 29 

Nor were these earth-born castles bare, 
Nor lack'd they many a banner fair; 
F'or, from their shiver'd brows display'd, 
Far o'er the unfathomable glade, 
All twinkling with the dewdrop sheen,i 
The brier-rose fell in streamers green. 
And creeping shrubs, of thousand dyes, 
Waved in the west wind's summer sighs. 

XII. 

Boon 2 nature scatter'd, free and wild, 
Each plant or flower, the mountain's child. 
Here eglantine embalm'd the air, 
Hawtl»orn and hazel mingled there ; 
The primrose pale and violet flower, 
Found in each cleft a narrow bower ; 
Foxglove and nightshade, side by side, 
Emblems of punishment and pride, 
Group'd their dark hues with every stain 
The weather-beaten crags retain. 
With boughs that quaked at every breath, 
Gray birch and aspen ^ wept beneath ; 
Aloft, the ash and warrior oak 
Cast anchor in the rifted rock ; 
And, higher yet, the pine tree hung 
His shatter'd trunk, and frequent flung. 
Where seem'd the cliffs to meet on high, 
His boughs athwart the narrow'd sky. 
Highest of all, where white peaks glanced, 
Where glist'ning streamers waved and danced, 

died " pagodas." About each story there is a balcony decorated with pen- 
ants or numerous projecting points or crests. 

1 Bright. 2 Kind; bountiful. 

^ The trembling poplar, so called from the trembling of its leaves, which 
lOve with the slightest impulse of the air. 



30 :SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

The wanderer's eye could barely view 
The summer heaven's delicious blue ; 
So wondrous wild, the whole might seem 
The scenery of a fairy dream. 

XIII. 

Onward, amid the copse 'gan peep 
A narrow inlet, still and deep. 
Affording scarce such breadth of brim 
As served the wild duck's brood to swim. 
Lost for a space, through thickets veering, 
But broader when again appearing. 
Tall rocks and tufted knolls their face 
Could on the dark-blue mirror trace ; * 
And farther as the Hunter stray'd. 
Still broader sweep its channel made. 
The shaggy mounds no longer stood, 
Emerging from the tangled wood. 
But, wave-encircled, seem'd to float, 
Like castle girdled with its moat ; 
Yet broader floods extending still 
Divide them from their parent hill, 
Till each, retiring, claims to be 
An islet in an inland sea. 

XIV. 

And now, to issue from the glen. 

No pathway meets the wanderer's ken, 

Unless he cHmb, with footing nice,i 

A far projecting precipice. .- 

The broom's ^ tough roots his ladder made, 

The hazel saphngs lent their aid ; 

And thus an airy point he won, 

1 Careful. 2 a bushy shrub common in western Europe. 



THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 3^ 

Where, gleaming with the setting sun, 

One burnish'd sheet of Hving gold. 

Loch Katrine lay beneath him roU'd, 

In all her length far winding lay, 

With promontory, creek, and bay. 

And islands that, empurpled bright,^ 

Floated amid the livelier light, 

And mountains, that like giants stand, 

To sentinel enchanted land. 

High on the south, huge Benvenue 

Down on the lake in masses threw 

Crags, knolls, and mounds, confusedly hurl'd, 

The fragments of an earlier world ; 

A wildering forest feather'd o'er 

His ruin'd sides and summit hoar, 

While on the north, through middle air, 

Ben-an - heaved high his forehead bare. 

XV. 

From the steep promontory gazed 

The stranger, raptured and amazed. 

And, " What a scene were here," he cried, 

" For princely pomp, or churchman's pride ! 

On this bold brow, a lordly tower ; 

In that soft vale, a lady's bower ; 

On yonder meadow, far away, 

The turrets of a cloister gray ; 

How bhthely might the bugle horn 

Chide, on the lake, the lingering morn ! 

How sweet, at eve, the lover's lute 

Chime, when the groves were still and mute ! 

And, when the midnight moon should lave 

Her forehead in the silver wave, 



Used adverbially. 2 " Little Mountain," east of Loch Katrine. 



32 SIR WALTER SCOTT. fcANTO 

How solemn on the ear would come 
The holy matins' ^ distant hum, 
While the deep peal's commanding tone 
Should wake, in yonder islet lone, 
A sainted hermit from his cell, 
To drop a bead - with every knell — 
And bugle, lute, and bell, and all, 
Should each bewilder'd stranger call 
To friendly feast, and lighted hall. 

XVI. 

" Blithe were it then to wander here ! 
But now, — beshrew yon nimble deer, — 
Like that same hermit's, thin and spare, 
The copse must give my evening fare ; 
Some mossy bank my couch must be. 
Some rustling oak my canopy. 
Yet pass we that ; the war and chase 
Give little choice of resting place ; — 
A summer night, in greenwood spent, 
Were but to-morrow's merriment : 
But hosts may in these wilds abound, 
Such as are better miss'd than found ; 
To meet with Highland plunderers here 
Were worse than loss of steed or deer. — 
I am alone ; — my bugle strain 
May call some straggler of the train ; 
Or, fall "^ the worst that may betide. 
Ere now this falchion has been tried." 

1 The first canonical hour of the day in the Catholic Church, beginning 
properly at midnight. Here referring to the striking of the hour by the 
" cloister " bell. 

2 " Drop a bead," i.e., say a prayer. The rosary used by Catholics is a 
string of beads by which count may be kept of the prayers recited. 

3 Happen ; befall. 



] THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 2>Z 

XVII. 

But scarce again his horn he wound, 

When lo ! forth starting at the sound, 

From underneath an aged oak, 

That slanted from the islet rock, 

A damsel guider of its way, 

A little skiff shot to the bay, 

That round the promontory steep 

Led its deep line in graceful sweep, 

Eddying, m almost viewless wave, 

The weeping willow twig to lave, 

And kiss, with whispering sound and slow, 

The beach of pebbles bright as snow. 

The boat had touch'd this silver strand, 

Just as the Hunter left his stand, 

And stood conceal'd amid the brake, 

To view this Lady of the Lake. 

The maiden paused, as if again 

She thought to catch the distant strain. 

With head upraised, and look intent, 

And eye and ear attentive bent, 

And locks flung back, and lips apart, 

Like monument of Grecian art. 

In listening mood, she seem'd to stand, 

The guardian Naiad ^ of the strand. 

XVIII. 

And ne'er did Grecian chisel trace 
A Nymph, a Naiad, or a Grace,^ 
Of finer form, or lovelier face ! 

1 {Nd'ydd.) In classic mythology, one of the lower female deities who 
presided over lakes, streams, and fountains, as the Nymphs presided over 
mountains, forests, and meadows. 

2 The Graces were in classic mythology three lovely sisters who attended 
A.pollo and Venus. 

3 



34 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

What though the sun, with ardent frown, 

Had sHghtly tinged her cheek with brown, — 

The sportive toil, which, short and hght. 

Had dyed her glowing hue so bright, 

Served too in hastier swell to show 

Short glimpses of a breast of snow : 

What though no rule of courtly grace 

To measured mood had train'd her pace, — 

A foot more light, a step more true. 

Ne'er from the heath flower dash'd the dew ; 

E'en the slight harebell raised its head. 

Elastic from her airy tread r 

What though upon her speech there hung 

The accents of the mountain tongue, — 

Those silver sounds, so soft, so dear. 

The list'neF held his breath to hear 1 



XIX. 

A chieftain'^s. daughter seemed the maid ; 
Her satin snood,i her silken plaid,^ 
Her golden brooch such birth betray'd. 
And seldom was a snood amid 
Such wild luxuriant ringlets hid. 
Whose glossy black to shame might bring 
The plumage of the raven's wing ; 
And seldom o'er a breast so fair 
Mantled a plaid with modest care, 
And never brooch the folds combined 
Above a heart more good and kind. 

1 A band used by Scottish maidens to bind the hair. 

2 {Played.) Several yards' length of usually checkered woolen cloth 
called " tartan," which the Scottish Highlanders of both sexes wound about 
their bodies, and which formed a characteristic feature of their national 
costume. 



THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 35 

Her kindness and her worth to spy, 
You need but gaze on Ellen's eye ; 
Not Katrine, in her mirror blue, 
Gives back the shaggy banks more true, 
Than every freeborn glance confess'd 
The guileless movements of her breast ; 
Whether joy danced in her dark eye. 
Or woe or pity claim'd a sigh, 
Or filial love was glowing there, 
Or meek devotion pour'd a prayer, 
Or tale of injury call'd forth 
The indignant spirit of the North. 
One only passion unreveal'd, 
With maiden pride the maid conceal'd. 
Yet not less purely felt the flame ; — 
Oh ! need I tell that passion's name ? 

XX. 

Impatient of the silent horn, 

Now on the gale her voice was borne : — 

" Father ! " she cried ; the rocks around 

Loved to prolong the gentle sound. 

A while she paused, no answer came, — 

" Malcolm, was thine the blast ? " the name 

Less resolutely utter'd fell, 

The echoes could not catch the swell. 

" A stranger I," the Huntsman said, 

Advancing from the hazel shade. 

The maid, alarm'd, with hasty oar, 

Push'd her light shallop 1 from the shore. 

And when a space Avas gain'd between, 

Closer she drew her bosom's screen ; 

(So forth the startled swan would swing, 

So turn to prune - his ruffled wing.) 

1 Boat. 2 Trim or arrange. 



36 SIR WALTER SCOTT. 

Then safe, though flutter'd and amazed, 
She paused, and on the stranger gazed. 
Not his the form, nor his the eye. 
That youthful maidens wont to fly. 

XXI. 

On his bold visage middle age 

Had slightly press'd its signet sage,^ 

Yet had not quench' d the open truth 

And fiery vehemence of youth ; 

Forward and frolic glee was there, 

The will to do, the soul to dare. 

The sparkling glance, soon blown to fire, 

Of hasty love, or headlong ire. 

His limbs were cast in manly mold, 

For hardy sports or contest bold ; 

And though in peaceful garb array'd, 

And weaponless, except his blade. 

His stately mien as well implied 

A high-born heart, a martial pride. 

As if a baron's crest he wore, 

And sheathed in armor trode the shore. 

Slighting the petty need- he show'd. 

He told of his benighted road ; 

His ready speech flow'd fair and free. 

In phrase of gentlest courtesy ; 

Yet seem'd that tone, and gesture bland, 

Less used to sue than to command. 

XXII. 

A while the maid the stranger eyed. 
And, reassured, at length replied. 
That Highland halls were open still 
To wilder'd ^ wanderers of the hill. 
»l Of wisdom. '^ Need of food. 3 Bewildered. 



1 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 37 

" Nor think you unexpected come 

To yon lone isle, our desert home ; 

Before the heath had lost the dew, 

This morn, a couch i was puU'd for you ; 

On yonder mountain's purple head 

Have ptarmigan '^ and heath cock bled, 

And our broad nets have swept the mere,^ 

To furnish forth your evening cheer." — 

** Now, by the rood,* my lovely maid, 

Your courtesy has err'd," he said ; 

" No right have I to claim, misplaced, 

The welcome of expected guest. 

A wanderer, here by fortune tost. 

My way, my friends, my courser lost, 

I ne'er before, believe me, fair. 

Have ever drawn your mountain air, ' 

Till on this lake's romantic strand 

I found a fay in fairyland ! " 

XXIII. 

" I well believe," the maid replied. 

As her light skiff approach'd the side, — 

" I well believe, that ne'er before 

Your foot has trod Loch Katrine's shore ; 

But yet, as far as yesternight, 

Old Allan-Bane foretold your plight, — 

A gray-hair'd sire, whose eye intent 

Was on the vision'd future ^ bent. 

He saw your steed, a dappled gray. 

Lie dead beneath the birchen way ; 

1 Heather, of which the Highlanders' rude couches were made. 

2 {Tdr'mt-gan.) The white grouse. 3 Lake. 

4 Crucifix or cross of Christ. 

5 " Vision'd future," i.e., visions of the future. 



38 S/J^ WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

Painted exact your form and mien, 

Your hunting suit of Lincoln green, i 

That tassel'd horn so gayly gilt, 

That falchion's crooked blade and hilt, 

That cap with heron plumage trim. 

And yon two hounds so dark and grim. 

He bade that all should ready be 

To grace a guest of fair degree ; ^ 

But light I held his prophecy, 

And deem'd it was my father's horn 

Whose echoes o'er the lake were borne." 

XXIV. . 

The stranger smiled : — " Since to your home 

A destined errant^ knight I come. 

Announced by prophet sooth * and old, 

Doom'd, doubtless, for achievement bold, 

I'll lightly front each high emprise ^ 

For one kind glance of those bright eyes. 

Permit me, first, the task to guide 

Your fairy frigate o'er the tide." 

The maid, with smile suppress'd and sly, 

The toil unwonted saw him try ; 

For seldom sure, if e'er before. 

His noble hand had grasp'd an oar : 

Yet with main strength his strokes he drew, 

And o'er the lake the shallop flew ; 

With heads erect, and whimpering cry, 

The hounds behind their passage ply. 

Nor frequent does the bright oar break 

The dark'ning mirror of the lake, 

1 Lincoln green is a kind of doth made in Lincoln. 

2 " Fair degree," i.e., high rank. ^ Wandering. ^ True. 
^ " High emprise," i.e., dangerous adventures. 



THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 39 

Until the rocky isle thxCy reach, 
And moor tlieir shallop on the beach. 



XXV, 

The stranger viewM the shore around \ 
'Twas all so close with copsewood bound, 
Nor track nor pathway might declare 
That human foot frequented there, 
Until the mountain maiden show'd 
A clambering unsuspected road 
That winded through the tangled screen, 
And open'd on a narrow gi-een, 
Where weeping birch and willow round 
With their long fibers swept the ground. 
Here, for retreat in dangerous hour, 
Some chief had framed a rustic bower. 

XXV L 

It was a lodge of ample size, 

But strange of structure and device ; 

Of such materials, as around 

The workman's hand had readiest found ; 

Lopp'd off their boughs, their hoar trunks bared, 

And by the hatchet rudely squared. 

To give the walls their destined height. 

The sturdy oak and ash unite ; 

AVhile moss and clay and leaves combined 

To fence each crevice from the wind. 

The lighter pine trees, overhead, 

Their slender length for rafters spread, 

And wither'd heath and rushes dry 

Supplied a russet canopy. 

Due westward, fronting to the green, 

A rural portico was seen. 



40 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

Aloft on native pillars borne, 

Of mountain fir, with bark unshorn, 

Where Ellen's hand had taught to twine 

The i\'y and Idaean vine,i 

The clematis, the favor'd flower 

Which boasts the name of virgin bower. 

And every hardy plant could ^ bear 

Loch Katrine's keen and searching air. 

An instant in this porch she staid, 

And gayly to the stranger said, 

*' On Heaven and on thy Lady call. 

And enter the enchanted hall 1 " 

xxvn. 

" My hope, my heaven, my trust must be. 

My gentle guide, in following thee." 

He cross'd the threshold — and a clang 

Of angry steel that instant rang. 

To his bold brow his spirit rush'd. 

But soon for vain alarm he blush' d. 

When on the floor he saw display'd. 

Cause of the din, a naked blade 

Dropp'd from the sheath, that careless flung, 

Upon a stag's huge antlers swung ; 

For all around, the walls to grace. 

Hung trophies of the fight or chase : 

A target ^ there, a bugle here, 

A battle-ax, a hunting spear. 

And broadswords, bows, and arrows store. 

With the tusk'd trophies of the boar. 

Here grins the wolf as when he died, 

1 ** Idsean vine," i.e., a translation of the Latin name of the red whortle- 
berry, Vitis Idcra; but this is a shrub, and could not be " taught to twine." 

2 Which could. ^ Small shield. 



] THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 41 

And there the wild cat's brindled hide 
The frontlet of the elk adorns, 
Or mantles o'er the bison's horns ; 
Pennons and flags defaced and stain'd, 
That blackening streaks of blood retain'd, 
And deerskins, dappled, dun, and white, 
With otter's fur and seal's unite. 
In rude and uncouth tapestry 1 all, 
To garnish forth the silvan hall. 

XXVIII. 

The wondering stranger round him gazed, 

And next the fallen weapon raised : — 

Few were the arms whose sinewy strength 

Sufficed to stretch it forth at length : 

And as the brand he poised and sway'd, 

" I never knew but one," he said, 

" Whose stalwart arm might brook 2 to wield 

A blade like this in battlefield." 

She sighed, then smiled and took the word : 

" You see the guardian champion's sword ; 

As light it trembles in his hand. 

As in my grasp a hazel wand ; 

My sire's tall form might grace the part 

Of Ferragus, or Ascabart ; ^ 

But in the absent giant's hold 

Are women now, and menials old." 

XXIX. 

The mistress of the mansion came. 
Mature of age, a graceful dame ; 

1 Hangings used to decorate the walls of a room. 2 Endure. 

3 Ferragus and Ascabart were two giants of romantic fable. The former 
Dpears in Ariosto's Orlando Furioso ; the latter in the History of Bevis of 
[ampton. His effigy may be seen guarding the gate at Southampton. 



42 S//^ WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

Whose easy step and stately port 
Had well become a princely court ; 
To whom, though more than kindred knew,^ 
Young Ellen gave a mother's due. 
Meet welcome to her guest she made, 
And every courteous rite was paid 
That hospitality could claim, 
■ Though all unask'd his birth and name. 
Such then the reverence to a guest, 
That fellest ^ foe might join the feast, 
And from his deadliest foeman's door 
Unquestion'd turn, the banquet o'er. 
At length his rank the stranger names, 
" The Knight of Snowdoun,^ James Fitz-James; ^ 
Lord of a barren heritage,^ 
Which his brave sires, from age to age, 
By their good swords had held with toil ; 
His sire had fall'n in such turmoil. 
And he, God wot,^ was forced to stand 
Oft for his right with blade in hand. 
This morning with Lord Moray's ^ train 
He chased a stalwart stag in vain, 
Outstripp'd his comrades, miss'd the deer, 
Lost his good steed, and wander'd here." 

XXX. 

Fain would the Knight in turn require 
The name and state of Ellen's sire. 
Well show'd the elder lady's mien 

1 Dame Margaret was Roderick Dhu's mother, but had acted as mother 
to Ellen, and held a higher place in her affections than the ties of blood 
would warrant. 2 Bitterest. 3 An old name of Stirling Castle. 

4 Fitz means " son" in Norman French. 

» " By the misfortunes of the earlier Jameses and the internal feuds of 
the Scottish chiefs, the kingly power had become little more than a name." 

6 Knows. 7 A half-brother of James V. (James Fitz-James). 



THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 43 

That courts and cities she had seen ; 
Ellen, though more her looks display'd 
The simple grace of silvan maid, 
In speech and gesture, form and face, 
Show'd she was come of gentle race. 
'Twere strange in ruder rank to find 
Such looks, such manners, and such mind. 
Each hint the Knight of Snowdoun gave. 
Dame Margaret heard with silence grave ; 
Or Ellen, innocently gay, 
Turn'd all inquiry light away : — 
" Weird women we ! by dale and down ^ 
We dwell, afar from tower and town. 
We stem the flood, we ride the blast. 
On wandering knights our spells we cast ; 
While viewless minstrels touch the string, 
'Tis thus our charmed rhymes we sing." 
She sung, and still a harp unseen 
Fill'd up the symphony between. 

XXXI. 

SONG. 

" Soldier, rest ! thy warfare o'er. 

Sleep the sleep that knows not breaking : 
Dream of battled fields no more. 

Days of danger, nights of waking. 
In our isle's enchanted hall. 

Hands unseen thy couch are strewing, 
Fairy strains of music fall. 

Every sense in slumber dewing.^ 
Soldier, rest ! thy warfare o'er. 
Dream of fighting fields no more : 

1 Hilly or undulating land. 2 Refreshing. 



44 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

Sleep the sleep that knows not breaking, 
Morn of toil, nor night of waking. 

" No rude sound shall reach thine ear, 

Armor's clang, or war steed champing. 
Trump nor pibroch ^ summon here 

Mustering clan, or squadron tramping. 
Yet the lark's shrill fife may come 

At the daybreak from the fallow,^ 
And the bittern ^ sound his drum. 

Booming from the sedgy shallow. 
Ruder sounds shall none be near, 
Guards nor warders challenge here. 
Here's no war steed's neigh and champing. 
Shouting clans, or squadrons stamping." 

XXXII. 

She paused — then, blushing, led the lay 
To grace the stranger of the day. 
Her mellow notes awhile prolong 
The cadence of the flowing song. 
Till to her lips in measured frame 
The minstrel verse spontaneous came. 

SONG CONTINUED. 

" Huntsman, rest ! thy chase is done ; 

While our slumbrous spells assail ye. 
Dream not, with the rising sun. 

Bugles here shall sound reveille.* 
Sleep ! the deer is in his den ; 

Sleep ! thy hounds are by thee lying ; 

1 The Highlanders' battle air, played upon the bagpipes. 

2 Untilled land. 

3 A kind of heron said to utter a loud and peculiar booming note. 

4 {Re-vdl'ye.) The morning call to soldiers to arise. 



THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 45 

Sleep ! nor dream in yonder glen, 

How thy gallant steed lay dying. 
Huntsman, rest ! thy chase is done, 
Think not of the rising sun, 
For at dawning to assail ye, 
Here no bugles sound reveille." 

XXXIII. 

The hall was clear'd — the stranger's bed 

Was there of mountain heather spread, 

Where oft a hundred guests had lain, 

And dream'd their forest sports again. 

But vainly did the heath flower shed 

Its moorland fragrance round his head ; 

Not Ellen's spell had lull'd to rest 

The fever of his troubled breast. 

In broken dreams the image rose 

Of varied perils, pains, and woes : 

His steed now flounders in the brake, 

Now sinks his barge upon the lake ; 

Now leader of a broken host, 

His standard falls, his honor's lost. 

Then, — from my couch may heavenly might 

Chase that worse phantom of the night ! — 

Again return'd the scenes of youth, 

Of confident undoubting truth ; 

Again his soul he interchanged 

With friends- whose hearts were long estranged. 

They come, in dim procession led. 

The cold, the faithless, and the dead ; 

As warm each hand, each brow as gay. 

As if they parted yesterday. 

And doubt distracts him at the view — 

Oh, were his senses false or true ? 



S/JC ]l'ALT£K SCO IT. [canto 

Dream'd he of death, or broken vow, 
Or is it all a A-ision now ? 



XX XIV. 

At length, with Ellen in a grove 

He seem'd to walk, and speak of love ; 

She hsten'd with a blush and sigh, 

His suit was warm, his hopes were high. 

He sought her yielded hand to clasp, 

And a cold gauntlet ^ met his grasp : 

The phantom's sex was changed and gone, 

Upon its head a helmet shone ; 

Slowly enlarged to giant size. 

With darkened cheek and threatening e3-es, 

The grisly \-isage, stem and hoar. 

To Ellen still a likeness bore. — 

He woke, and, panting -with affright, 

Recall'd the vision of the night. 

The hearth's decaying brands were red, 

And deep and dusky luster shed, 

Half sho"wnng, half concealing, all 

The uncouth trophies of the hall. 

'Mid those the stranger fix'd his eye 

WTiere that huge falchion hung on high, 

And thoughts on thoughts, a couiitless throng, 

Rush'd, chasing countless thoughts along, 

Until, the giddy whirl to cure, 

He rose, and sought the moonshine pure. 

XXXV. 

The wild rose, eglantine, and broom 
Wasted around their rich perfume : 
The birch trees wept in fragrant balm, 

1 A mailed glove nsed by warriors in the middle ages to protect their 
hands from wounds. 



THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 47 

The aspens slept beneath the calm ; 

The silver light, with quivering glance, 

Play'd on the water's still expanse, — 

Wild were the heart whose passion's sway 

Could rage beneath the sober ray ! 

He felt its calm, that warrior guest. 

While thus he communed with his breast : — 

" Why is it at each turn I trace 

Some memory of that exiled race ? 

Can I not mountain maiden spy. 

But she must bear the Douglas eye ? 

Can I not view a Highland brand, 

But it must match the Douglas hand ? 

Can I not frame a fever'd dream. 

But still the Douglas is the theme ? 

I'll dream no more — by manly mind 

Not even in sleep is will resign'd. 

My midnight orisons said o'er, 

I'll turn to rest, and dream no more." 

His midnight orisons he told,^ 

A prayer with every bead of gold, 

Consign'd to Heaven his cares and woes, 

And sunk in undisturb'd repose ; 

Until the heath cock shrilly crew, 

And morning dawn'd on Benvenue. 

^ Repeated. 



48 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [cant( 



CANTO SECOND. 



THE ISLAND. 



AT morn the blackcock trims his jetty wing, 
±\ 'Tis morning prompts the linnet's ^ blithest lay, 
All Nature's children feel the matin 2 spring 

Of Hfe reviving, with reviving day ; 
And while yon little bark glides down the bay, 

Wafting the stranger on his way again. 
Morn's genial influence roused a minstrel gray, 

And sweetly o'er the lake was heard thy strain j 
Mix'd with the sounding harp, O white-hair'd Allan-Bane ! 



SONG. 

" Not faster yonder rowers' might 

Fhngs from their oars the spray, 
Not faster yonder rippling bright. 
That tracks the shallop's course in hght. 

Melts in the lake away, 
Than men from memory erase 
The benefits of former days ; 
Then, stranger, go ! good speed the while. 
Nor think again of the lonely isle. 

1 A small European song bird. 

2 {Mdfin.) Pertaining to the morning. 

3 Highland chieftains often retained in their service a bard or minstre 
who was well versed not only in the genealogy and achievements of the pa 
ticular clan or family to which he was attached, but in the more gener 
history of Scotland as well. 



THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 49 

" High place to thee in royal court. 

High place in battled ^ Hne, 
Good hawk and hound for silvan sport, 
Where beauty sees the brave resort, 

The honor'd meed ^ be thine ! 
True be thy sword, thy friend sincere, 
Thy lady constant, kind, and dear, 
And lost in love's and friendship's smile 
Be memory of the lonely isle. 

III. 

SONG CONTINUED. 

" But if beneath yon southern sky 

A plaided stranger roam. 
Whose drooping crest and stifled sigh, 
And sunken cheek and heavy eye, 

Pine for his Highland home ; 
Then, warrior, then be thine to show 
The care that soothes a wanderer's woe ; 
Remember then thy hap erewhile, 
A stranger in the lonely isle. 

** Or if on life's uncertain main 

Mishap shall mar thy sail ; 
If faithful, wise, and brave in vain. 
Woe, want, and exile thou sustain 

Beneath the fickle gale ; 
Waste not a sigh on fortune changed, 
On thankless courts, or friends estranged, 
But come w^here kindred worth shall smile, 
To greet thee in the lonely isle." 

1 Ranged in order of battle. 2 Recompense. 



4 



50 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

IV. 

As died the sounds upon the tide, 
The shallop reach'd the mainland side, 
And ere his onward way he took, 
The stranger cast a lingering look, 
Where easily his eye might reach 
The Harper on the islet beach, 
Reclined against a blighted tree, 
As wasted, gray, and Avom as he. 
To minstrel meditation given, 
His reverend brow was raised to heaven, 
As from the rising sun to claim 
A sparkle of inspiring flame. 
His hand, reclined upon the wire, 
Seem'd watching the awakening fire ; 
So still he sate, as those who wait 
Till judgment speak the doom of fate ; 
So still, as if no breeze might dare 
To lift one lock of hoary hair; 
So still, as life itself were fled, 
In the last sound his harp had sped. 



Upon a rock with lichens wild, 
Beside him Ellen sate and smiled. — 
Smiled she to see the stately drake 
Lead forth his fleet i upon the lake, 
While her vex'd spaniel, from the beach, 
Bay'd at the prize beyond his reach ? 
Yet tell me, then, the maid who knows. 
Why deepen'd on her cheek the rose ? — 
Forgive, forgive, Fidehty ! 
Perchance the maiden smiled to see 

1 Of ducks. 



THE LADY OF THE LAKE, 5 1 

Yon parting lingerer wave adieu, 
And stop and turn to wave anew ; 
And, lovely ladies, ere your ire 
Condemn the heroine of my lyre," 
Show me the fair would scorn to spy, 
And prize such conquest of her eye ! 

VI. 

While yet he loiter'd on the spot. 
It seem'd as Ellen mark'd him not ; 
But when he turn'd him to the glade. 
One courteous parting sign she made ; 
And after, oft the Knight would say, 
That not, when prize of festal day 
Was dealt him by the brightest fair 
Who e'er wore jewel in her hair. 
So highly did his bosom swell. 
As at that simple mute farewell. 
Now with a trusty mountain guide, 
And his dark staghounds by his side, 
He parts — the maid, unconscious still, 
Watch'd him wind slowly round the hill ; 
But when his stately form was hid. 
The guardian in her bosom chid — 
" Thy Malcolm ! vain and selfish maid ! " 
'Twas thus upbraiding conscience said, — 
"Not so had Malcolm idly hung 
On the smooth phrase of southern tongue ; 
Not so had Malcolm strain'd his eye. 
Another step than thine to spy. — 
Wake, Allan-Bane," aloud she cried. 
To the old Minstrel by her side, — 
" Arouse thee from thy moody dream ! 
I'll give thy harp heroic theme. 
And warm thee with a noble name ; 



Pour forth the don- of the Grseine ! " ^ 
Scarce from her lip the word had rushM, 
Wlien deep the oonsdons maiden blush'd ; 
For of his^:::lan, in hall and box^-er. 
Young Maicdm Graane was held the flower, 

vn. 

Hie MinstTel waked his harp — three times 

Arose the well-known martial chimes, 

And thrice their high heroic pride 

In melancholy murmurs died, 

** Vainly diou bidst, O noble n-jaid,"" 

Oaring his witherd hands, he said, 

" Vainly thou bidst me wake the strain. 

Though all unwont to bid in vain, 

Alas ; than mine a mightier hand 

Has tuned my harp, my strings has <^>ann'd ! 

I touch the chords of joy, but low 

And mournful answer notes of woe ; 

And the proud march, which \-ict0irs tread. 

Sinks in the wailing for the dead. 

Oh, well for me, if mine alone 

That dirge's deep prophetic tone ! 

If, as my tuneful fathers said. 

This haip, which erst ^ St, Modan ^ sway'd. 

Can iJiBs its master's fate foretell, 

Then ^Prelcame be the MinstrePs knell I 

VIII, 

** Bat ah ] dear lady, thus it sagh'd 
The eve thy sainted mother died ; 

And such the sounds which, while I strove 

^ The jcndeait «id powerful family of Grahim of DcmbartOQ aad Sdrfii^ 

■ae <sf Cbe most remarlcable characters in Scottish annals. 
* LoBg 3^0. * A Scotch abbot of the seveaith centniy. 



I.] THE LADY OF THE LAKE, 53 

To wake a lay of war or love, 

Came marring all the festal mirth, 

AppaUing me who gave them birth, 

And, disobedient to my call, 

Wail'd loud through Bothwell's ^ banner'd hall, 

Ere Douglases, to ruin driven, 

Were exiled from their native heaven. — - 

Oh ! if yet worse mishap and woe 

My master's house must undergo. 

Or aught but weal to fallen fair 

Brood in these accents of despair. 

No future bard, sad Harp I shall fling 

Triumph or rapture from thy string ; 

One short, one final strain shall flow, 

Fraught with unutterable woe, 

Then shiver'd shall thy fragments lie. 

Thy master cast him down and die ! " 

IX. 

Soothing she answer'd him — " Assuage, 
Mine honor'd friend, the fears of age ; 
All melodies to thee are known. 
That harp has rung or pipe ^ has blown, 
In Lowland vale or Highland glen, 
From Tweed to Spey ^ — what marvel, then, 
At times, unbidden notes should rise. 
Confusedly bound in memory's ties, 
Entangling, as they rush along, 

1 Bothwell Castle on the Clyde, nine miles from Glasgow, was the prin- 
ipal seat of the Earls of Angus, the elder branch of the Douglas family, 
ntil 1528, when James V. escaped from his virtual imprisonment by Angus 
cting as regent, and drove the Douglases into exile, confiscating their 
states (see Introduction). 2 Bagpipe. 

3 The river Tweed is on the southern boundary of Scotland. The Spey 
; a river of the extreme north. 



54 -^/A' Vr ALTER SCOTT. 

The war march with the funeral song? — 

Small gTound is now for boding fear ; 

Obscure, but safe, we rest us here. 

My sire, in native virtue great, 

Resigning lordship, lands, and state, 

Not then to fortune more resign'd. 

Than yonder oak might give the wind ; 

The graceful foliage storms may reave,^ 

The noble stem they cannot grieve. 

For me," — she stoop'd, and, looking round, 

Pluck' d a blue Ijarebell from the ground, — 

" For me, whose memory scarce conveys 

An image of more splendid days. 

This httle flower, that loves the lea, 

Mav well my simple emblem be ; 

It drinks heaven's dew as blithe as rose 

That in the King's own garden grows ; 

And when I place it in my hair, 

Allan, a bard is bound to swear 

He ne'er saw coronet so fair." 

Then playfully the chaplet wild 

She wreath'd in her dark locks, and smiled. 



Her smile, her speech, with winning sway, 
Wiled - the old Harper's mood away. 
With such a look as hermits throw. 
When angels stoop to soothe their woe, 
He gazed, till fond regret and pride 
Thrill'd to a tear,, then thus rephed : 
" Loveliest and best ! .thou Httle know'st 
The rank, the honors, thou hast lost ! 
Oh, might I live to see thee grace. 
In Scotland's court, thy birthri*ght place, 
1 Snatch away. 2 Beguiled. 



] THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 55 

To see my favorite's step advance, 
The lightest in the courtly dance, 
The cause of every gallant's sigh, 
And leading star of every eye, 
And theme of every minstrel's art, 
The Lady of the Bleeding Heart ! " ^ 

XI. 

" Fair dreams are these," the maiden cried, 
(Light was her accent, yet she sigh'd;) 
" Yet is this mossy rock to me 
Worth splendid chair and canopy ; 
Nor would my footsteps spring more gay 
In courtly dance than blithe strathspey,'-^ 
Nor half so pleased mine ear incHne 
To royal minstrel's lay as thine. 
And then for suitors proud and high, 
To bend before my conquering eye, — 
Thou, flattering bard ! thyself \^ilt say. 
That grim Sir Roderick owns its svvay. 
The Saxon ^ scourge, Clan-Alphie's* pride, 
The terror of Loch Lomond's side, 
Would, at my suit, thou know'st, delay 
A Lennox ^ foray — for a day." 

1 The Bleeding Heart was the cognizance of the Douglas family in mem- 
•y of the heart of Bruce, which that monarch on his deathbed bequeathed 

James Douglas, that he might carry it upon a crusade to the Holy City. 

2 A rustic Highland dance which takes its name from the strath or broad 
illey of the Spey. 

3 " The Scottish Highlander calls himself Gael, and terms the Lowlanders 
issenach or Saxons." 

* Gregor, the progenitor or the clan MacGregor, was supposed to be the 
)n of a Scotch King Alpine : hence the MacGregors are sometimes called 
!acAlpines. 

5 The district lying south of Loch Lomond. 



56 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [cantc 

XII. 

The ancient bard his glee repress'd : 

"111 hast thou chosen theme for jest ! 

For who, through all this western wild, 

Named Black ^ Sir Roderick e'er, and smiled ? 

In Holy-Rood "^ a knight he slew ; 

I saw, when back the dirk he drew. 

Courtiers give place before the stride 

Of the undaunted homicide ; 

And since, though outlaw'd,^ hath his hand 

Full sternly kept his mountain land. 

Who else dared give — ah ! woe the day 

That I such hated truth should say — 

The Douglas, hke a stricken deer, 

Disown'd by every noble peer, 

Even the rude refuge we have here ? 

Alas! this wild marauding Chief 

Alone might hazard our relief, 

And, now thy maiden charms expand, 

Looks for his guerdon ^ in thy hand ; 

Full soon may dispensation ^ sought. 

To back his suit, from Rome be brought. 

Then, though an exile on the hill, 

Thy father, as the Douglas, still 

Be held in reverence and fear ; 

And though to Roderick thou'rt so dear, 

That thou mightst guide with silken thread, 

' Dhu in Gaelic. 

2 " In Holy-Rood," i.e., in the very presence of royalty. Holyrood was 
the King's palace in Edinburgh. 

3 A person who had been oudawed, or declared without the protection of 
the law, could not bring an action at law. Any one could steal his property, 
or even kill him, without fear of legal punishment. 4 Reward. 

5 Roderick and Ellen, being cousins, could not marry without dispensa- 
tion, or special license from the Pope. 



(.] THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 57 

Slave of thy will, this Chieftain dread, 
Yet, O loved maid, thy mirth refrain! 
Thy hand is on a lion's mane." 

XIII. 

" Minstrel," the maid replied, and high 
Her father's soul glanced from her eye, 
" My debts to Roderick's house I know : 
All that a mother could bestow, 
To l.ady Margaret's care I owe. 
Since first an orphan in the wild 
She sorrow'd o'er her sister's child ; 
To her brave chieftain son, from ire 
Of Scotland's King who shrouds i my sire, 
A deeper, holier dfbt is owed ; 
And, could I pay it with my blood, 
Allan ! Sir Roderick should command 
My blood, my hfe, — but not my hand. 
Rather will Ellen Douglas dwell 
A votaress in Maronnan's - cell ; 
Rather through realms beyond the sea. 
Seeking the world's cold charity. 
Where ne'er was spoke a Scottish word, 
And ne'er the name of Douglas heard. 
An outcast pilgrim will she rove. 
Than wed the man she cannot love. 

XIV. 

" Thou shakest, good friend, thy tresses gray, — 
That pleading look, what can it say 
But what I own ? — I grant him ^ brave, 

• 1 Shields. 

2 Kilmaronock, a village about two miles southeast of Loch Lomond, has 
1 chapel or convent dedicated to St. Maronnan, of whom little is remembered. 

.3 " I grant him," i.e., I grant that he is. 



58 Sn^ WALTER SCOTT. [( 

But wild as iTracklinn's ^ thundering wave ; 

And generous — save - vindictive mood, 

Or jealous transport, chafe his blood: 

I grant him true to friendly band, 

As his claymore is to his hand ; 

But oh ! that very blade of steel 

More mercy for a foe would feel: 

I grant him liberal, to fling 

Among his clan the wealth they bring. 

When back by lake and glen they wind. 

And in the Lowland leave behind, 

Where once some pleasant hamlet stood, 

A mass of ashes slaked ^ with blood. 

The hand that for my father fought 

I honor, as his daughter ought ; 

But can I clasp it reeking red, 

From peasants slaughter'd in their shed ? 

No ! wildly while his virtues gleam. 

They make his passions darker seem. 

And flash along his spirit high, 

Like hghtning o'er the midnight sky. 

While yet a child, — and children know, 

Instinctive taught, the friend and foe, — 

I shudder'd at his brow of gloom, 

His shadowy plaid, and sable plume ; 

A maiden grown, I ill could bear 

His haughty mien and lordly air : 

But, if thou join'st a suitor's claim. 

In serious mood, to Roderick's name, 

I thrill with anguish ! or, if e'er 

A Douglas knew the word, with fear. 

To change such odious theme were best, — 

What thinkst thou of our stranger guest ? " 

1 A cascade on the Keltic. 2 Unless. ^ Quenched. 



THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 59 

XV. 

" What think I of him ? Woe the while 

That brought such wanderer to our isle ! 

Thy father's battle brand, of yore 

For Tine-man 1 forged by fairy lore, 

What time he leagued, no longer foes, 

His Border spears with Hotspur's bows, 

Did, self-unscabbarded, foreshow 

The footstep of a secret foe. 

If courtly spy hath harbor'd here. 

What may we for the Douglas fear ? 

What for this island, deem'd of old 

Clan- Alpine's last and surest hold? 

If neither spy nor foe, I pray 

What yet may jealous Roderick say ? 

— Nay, wave not thy disdainful head, 

Bethink thee of the discord dread 

That kindled, when at Beltane ^ game 

Thou ledst the dance with Malcolm Graeme ; 

Still, though thy sire the peace renew'd. 

Smolders in Roderick's breast the feud. 

Beware ! — But hark, what sounds are these ? 

My dull ears catch no faltering breeze ; 

No weeping birch, nor aspens wake, 

Nor breath is dimpling in the lake ; 

Still is the canna's ^ hoary beard ; 

Yet, by my minstrel faith, I heard — 

And hark again ! some pipe of war 

Sends the bold pibroch from afar." 

1 Archibald Douglas, so called because so many of his enterprises ended 
tine (or " distress "). After being defeated by Harry Hotspur at Homil- 

>n Hill in 1402, he joined Hotspur in his rebellion against Henry IV., and 
the following year was with him disastrously defeated at Shrewsbury. 

2 The Celtic festival celebrated about the ist of May. 

3 A species of grass. 



6o S//^ WALTER SCOT?: [can 

XVI. 

Far up the lengthen'd lake were spied 
Four darkening specks upon the tide, 
That, slow enlarging on the view, 
Four mann'd and masted barges grew, 
And, bearing dowuAvards from Glengyle, 
Steer'd full upon the lonely isle ; 
The point of Brianchoil ^ they pass'd. 
And, to the vrindward as they cast. 
Against the sun they gave to shine 
The bold Sir Roderick's banner'd Pine.2 
Nearer and nearer as they bear, 
Spears, pikes, and axes flash in air. 
Now might you see the tartans brave,^ 
And plaids and plumage dance and wave : 
Now see the bonnets^ sink and rise, 
As his tough oar the rower phes ; 
See, flashing at each sturdy stroke. 
The wave ascending into smoke ; 
See the proud pipers on the bow. 
And mark the gaudy streamers ^ flow 
From their loud chanters do\\Ti, and sweep 
The furrow'd bosom of the deep. 
As, rushing through the lake amain. 
They phed the ancient Highland strain. 

XVII. 

Ever, as on they bore, more loud 
And louder rung the pibroch proud. 
At first the sound, by distance tame, 
Mellow'd along the waters came, 

1 A promontory on the north bank of Loch Katrine. 

2 Tlie badge or crest of the MacGregors. 3 Gay. < Scotch cap 
5 Ribbons attached to the chanters or tubes of a bagpipe for decoration. 



THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 6i 

And, lingering long by cape and bay, 

Wail'd every harsher note away ; 

Then, bursting bolder on the ear. 

The clan's shrill Gathering they could hear ; 

Those thrilHng sounds, that call the might 

Of old Clan- Alpine to the fight. 

Thick beat the rapid notes, as when 

The mustering hundreds shake the glen, 

And, hurrying at the signal dread. 

The batter'd earth returns their tread. 

Then prelude light, of livelier tone, 

Express'd their merry marching on. 

Ere peal of closing battle rose, 

With mingled outcry, shrieks, and blows ; 

And mimic din of stroke and ward, 

As broadsword upon target jarr'd ; 

And groaning pause, ere yet again. 

Condensed, the battle yell'd amain ; 

The rapid charge, the rallying shout, 

Retreat borne headlong into rout, 

And bursts of triumph, to declare 

Clan-Alpine's conquests — all were there. 

Nor ended thus the strain ; but slow, 

Sunk in a moan prolonged and low. 

And changed the conquering clarion swell. 

For wild lament o'er those that fell. 

XVIII. 

The war pipes ceased ; but lake and hill 
Were busy with their echoes still ; 
And, when they slept, a vocal strain 
Bade their hoarse chorus wake again. 
While loud a hundred clansmen raise 
Their voices in their Chieftain's praise. 
Each boatman, bending to his oar, 



62 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [can 

With measured sweep the burden i bore, 
In such wild cadence as the breeze 
Makes through December's leafless trees. 
The chorus first could Allan know, 
" Roderick Vich Alpine, ho ! iro ! " 
And near, and nearer as they row'd, 
Distinct the martial ditty flow'd. 

XIX. 

BOAT SONG. 

Hail to the Chief who in triumph advances ! 

Honor'd and bless'd be the ever-green Pine ! 
Long may the tree, in his banner that glances, 
Flourish, the shelter and grace of our line ! 
Heaven send it happy dew. 
Earth lend it sap anew, 
Gayly to bourgeon, 2 and broadly to grow, 
While every Highland glen 
Sends our shout back agen,^ 
** Roderigh Vich Alpine dhu, ^ ho ! ieroe! " 

Ours is no sapling, chance-sown by the fountain, 

Blooming at Beltane, in winter to fade ; 
When the whirlwind has stripp'd every leaf on th 
mountain, 
The more shall Clan-Alpine exult in her shade. 
Moor'd in the rifted rock. 
Proof to the tempest's shock. 
Firmer he roots him the ruder it blow ; 
Menteith and Breadalbane,^ then, 
Echo his praise agen, 
" Roderigh Vich Alpine dhu, ho ! ieroe ! " 

1 Chorus. 2 {Bui-'Jim.) Sprout. 3 Again. 

^ Black Roderick, a descendant of Alpine. 
5 The district north of Loch Lomond. 



THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 63 

XX. 

Proudly our pibroch has thrill'd in Glen Fruin,^ 

And Bannochar's ^ groans to our slogan 2 replied ; 
Glen Luss 1 and Ross-dhu,^ they are smoking in ruin, 
And the best of Loch Lomond He dead on her side. 

Widow and Saxon maid 

Long shall lament our raid, 
Think of Clan-Alpine with fear and with woe ; 

Lennox and Leven-glen 

Shake when they hear agen, 
" Roderigh Vich Alpine dhu, ho ! ieroe ! " 

Row, vassals, row, for the pride of the Highlands ! 

Stretch to your oars, for. the ever-green Pine ! 
Oh that the rosebud that graces yon islands 

Were wreathed in a garland around him to twine ! 

Oh that some seedling gem, 

Worthy such noble stem, 
Honor'd and bless' d in their shadow might grow ! 

Loud should Clan-Alpine then 

Ring from her deepmost glen, 
" Roderigh Vich Alpine dhu, ho ! ieroe ! " 

XXI. 

With all her joyful female band, 
Had Lady Margaret sought the strand. 
Loose on the breeze their tresses flew, 
And high their snowy arms they threw, 
As echoing back with shrill acclaim. 
And chorus wild, the Chieftain's name ; 
While prompt to please, with mother's art, 
The darling passion of his heart, 
The Dame call'd Ellen to the strand, 

1 A valley and localities about Loch Lomond. - Battle cry. 



64 SIR WALTER SCOTT. 

To greet her kinsman ere he land : 

" Come, loiterer, come ! a Douglas thou, 

And shun to wreathe a victor's brow ? " 

Reluctantly and slow, the maid 

The unwelcome summoning obey'd. 

And, when a distant bugle rung. 

In the mid-path aside she sprung : — 

" List, Allan- Bane ! From mainland cast, 

I hear my father's signal blast. 

Be ours," she cried, " the skiff to guide. 

And waft him from the mountain side." 

Then, like a sunbeam, swift and bright, 

She darted to her shallop hght. 

And, eagerly while Roderick scann'd, 

For her dear form, his mother's band, 

The islet far behind her lay, 

And she had landed in the bay. 

XXII. 

Some feelings are to mortals given. 
With less of earth in them than heaven : 
And if there be a human tear 
From passion's dross refined and clear, 
A tear so hmpid and so meek. 
It would not stain an angel's cheek, 
'Tis that which pious fathers shed 
Upon a duteous daughter's head ! 
And as the Douglas to his breast 
His darling Ellen closely press' d, 
Such holy drops her tresses steep'd. 
Though 'twas an hero's eye that weep'd. 
Nor while on Ellen's faltering tongue 
Her filial welcomes crowded hung, 
Mark'd she, that fear (affection's proof) 
Still held a graceful youth aloof ; 



THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 65 

No ! not till Douglas named his name, 
Although the youth was Malcolm Graeme. 

XXIII, 

Allan, with wistful look the while, 

Mark'd Roderick landing on the isle; 

His master piteously he eyed, 

Then gazed upon the Chieftain's pride. 

Then dash'd, with hasty hand, away 

From his dimm'd eye the gathering spray ; 

And Douglas, as his hand he laid 

On Malcolm's shoulder, kindly said, 

" Canst thou, young friend, no meaning spy 

In "my poor follower's glistening eye ? 

I'll tell thee: — he recalls the day 

When in my praise he led the lay 

O'er the arch'd gate of Both well proud, 

While many a minstrel ansvver'd loud, 

Whbn Percy's Norman pennon,^ won 

In bloody field, before me shone, 

And twice ten knights, the least a name 

As tnighty as yon Chief may claim. 

Gracing my pomp, behind me came. 

Yet trust me, Malcolm, not so proud 

Was I of all that marshal' d crowd. 

Though the waned crescent ^ ownM my might, 

And in my train troop'd lord and knight. 

Though Blantyre ^ hymn'd her holiest lays. 

And Bothwell's bards flung back my praise, 

As when this old man's silent tear. 

And this poor maid's affection dear, 

1 The battle flag which Earl Douglas won from Hotspur at Newcastle in 
[388. 2 A crescent was one of the badges of the Percies. 

3 An abbey near Bothwell Castle. 

5 



66 SIR WALTER SCOTT, [CA 

A welcome give more kind and true. 
Than aught my better fortunes knew. 
Forgive, my friend, a father's boast. 
Oh ! it out-beggars i all I lost I " 

XXIV, 

Delightful praise ! — Like summer rose, 
That brighter in the dew drop glows, 
The bashful maiden's cheek appear'd. 
For Douglas spoke, and Malcolm heard. 
The flush of shamefaced joy to hide, 
The hounds, the hawk, her cares divide ; 
The loved caresses of the maid 
The dogs with crouch and whimper paid ; 
And, at her whistle, on her hand 
The falcon took his favorite stand, 
Closed his dark wing, relax'd his eye. 
Nor, though unhooded,- sought to fly. 
And, trust, while in such guise she stood, 
Like fabled goddess ^ of the wood, 
That if a father's partial thought 
O'erw^eigh'd her w^orth and beauty aught. 
Well might the lover's judgment fail 
To balance with a juster scale ; 
For with each secret glance he stole, 
The fond enthusiast sent his soul. 

XXV. 

Of stature tall, and slender frame, 
But firmly knit, was Malcolm Graeme. 

1 Causes to seem poor. 

2 Hawks or falcons were trained to pursue small game during the middle 
ages. When not in flight, they were usually blinded by means of a hooc 
adorned with little bells. 

3 Ellen, surrounded by the hounds and with the falcon on her hand 
likened to Diana, the goddess of the chase, in Greek mythology. 



THE LADY OF THE LAKE, 67 

The belted plaid and tartan hose 

Did ne'er more graceful limbs disclose ; 

His flaxen hair, of sunny hue, 

Curl'd closely round his bonnet blue. 

Train' d to the chase, his eagle eye 

The ptarmigan in snow could spy : 

Each pass, by mountain, lake, and heath, 

He knew, through Lennox and Menteith ; 

Vain was the bound of dark-brown doe 

When Malcolm bent his sounding bow ; 

And scarce that doe, though wing'd with fear, 

Outstripp'd in speed the mountaineer : 

Right up Ben-Lomond could he press, 

And not a sob his toil confess. 

His form accorded with a mind 

Lively and ardent, frank and kind ; 

A Wither heart, till Ellen came, 

Did never love nor sorrow tame ; 

It danced as lightsome in his breast, 

As play'd the feather on his crest. 

Yet friends, who nearest knew the youth, 

His scorn of wrong, his zeal for truth. 

And bards, who saw his features bold, 

When kindled by the tales of old, 

Said, were that youth to manhood grown, 

Not long should Roderick Dhu's renown 

Be foremost voiced by mountain fame. 

But quail to that of Malcolm Graeme. 

XXVI. 

Now back they wend their watery way, 
And, " O my sire ! " did Ellen say, 
** Why urge thy chase so far astray ? 
And why so late return'd ? And why " — 
The rest was in her speaking eye. 



68 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [can 

" My child, the chase I follow far, 
'Tis mimicry of noble war ; 
And with that gallant pastime reft 
Were all of Douglas I have left. 
I met young Malcolm as I stray'd 
Far eastward, in Glenfinlas' shade. 
Nor stray'd I safe ; for, all around, 
Hunters and horsemen scour'd the ground. 
This youth, though still a royal ward,i 
Risk'd life and land to be my guard, 
And through the passes of the wood 
Guided my steps, not unpursued ; 
And Roderick shall his welcome make, 
Despite old spleen,^ for Douglas' sake. 
Then must he seek Strath- Endrick glen, 
Nor peril aught for me agen." 

XXVII. ^ 

Sir Roderick, who to meet them came, 
Redden'd at sight of Malcolm Graeme, 
Yet not in action, word, or eye, 
Fail'd aught in hospitality. 
In talk and sport they whiled away 
The morning of that summer day ; 
But at high noon a courier light 
Held secret parley with the Knight, 
Whose moody aspect soon declared 
That evil were the news he heard. 
Deep thought seem'd toiling in his head ; 
Yet was the evening banquet made, 
Ere he assembled round the flame. 
His mother, Douglas, and the Graeme, 

1 " Royal ward," i.e., under the guardianship of the King, Douglj 
chief enemy. 2 Feud. 



THE LADY OF THE LAKE, 69 

And Ellen too ; then cast around 

His eyes, then fix'd them on the ground, 

As studying phrase that might avail 

Best to convey unpleasant tale. 

Long with his dagger's hilt he play'd, 

Then raised his haughty brow, and said : — 

XXVIII. 

" Short be my speech ; — nor time affords, 
Nor my plain temper, glozing 1 words. 
Kinsman and father, — if such name 
Douglas vouchsafe to Roderick's claim ; 
Mine honor'd mother ; — Ellen — why, 
My cousin, turn away thine eye ? — 
And Graeme ; in whom I hope to know 
Full soon a noble friend or foe, 
When age shall give thee thy command 
And leading in thy native land, — 
List all ! — The King's vindictive pride 
Boasts to have tamed the Border-side, 
Where chiefs, with hound and hawk who came 
To share their monarch's silvan game. 
Themselves in bloody toils were snared ; 
And when the banquet they prepared, 
And wide their loyal portals flung. 
O'er their own gateway struggling hung.2 
Loud cries their blood from Meggat's ^ mead, 
From Yarrow^ braes,-^ and banks of Tweed, 
Where the lone streams of Ettrick ^ glide, 
And from the silver Teviot's ^ side ; 
The dales, where martial clans did ride, 
Are now one sheep-walk,-' waste and wide. 

1 Flattering. 2 See Introduction, p. 13. 

3 A tributary of the river Tweed, on the Scottish Border. 

* Hillsides. 5 A sheep pasture. 



70 S/JH WALTER SCOTT. [can'l 

This tyrant of the Scottish throne, 

So faithless and so ruthless known, 

Now hither comes ; his end the same, 

The same pretext of silvan game. 

What grace for Highland Chiefs, judge ye 

By fate of Border chivalry. 

Yet more ; amid Glenfinlas green, 

Douglas, thy stately form was seen — 

This by espial sure I know : 

Your counsel, in the streight I show." ^ 

XXIX. 

Ellen and Margaret fearfully 

Sought comfort in each other's eye, 

Then turn'd their ghastly look, each one, 

This to her sire, that to her son. 

The hasty color went and came 

In the bold cheek of Malcolm Graeme ; 

But from his glance it well appear' d 

'Twas but for Ellen that he fear'd ; 

While, sorrowful, but undismay'd, 

The Douglas thus his counsel said : — 

" Brave Roderick, though the tempest roar, 

It may but thunder, and pass o'er ; 

Nor will I here remain an hour. 

To draw the Hghtning on thy bower; 

For well thou know'st, at this gray head 

The royal bolt were fiercest sped. 

For thee, who, at thy King's command, 

Canst aid him with a gallant band. 

Submission, homage, humbled pride, 

Shall turn the monarch's \^Tath aside. 

Poor remnants of the Bleeding Heart,^ 

^ " Your counsel," etc., i.e., I would have your advice in the emergenc 
I indicate. 2 See Note I, p. 55. " 



.] THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 71 

Ellen and I will seek, apart, 
The refuge of some forest cell, 
There, like the hunted quarry, dwell, 
Till on the mountain and the moor, 
The stern pursuit be pass'd and o'er." 

XXX. 

" No, by mine honor," Roderick said, 

" So help me Heaven, and my good blade ! 

No, never ! Blasted be yon Pine, 

My fathers' ancient crest and mine, 

If from its shade in danger part 

The lineage of the Bleeding Heart ! 

Hear my blunt speech : grant me this maid 

To wife, thy counsel to mine aid ; 

To Douglas, leagued with Roderick Dhu, 

Will friends and allies flock enow ; ^ 

Like cause of doubt, distrust, and grief, 

Will bind to us each Western Chief. 

When the loud pipes my bridal tell, 

The Links of Forth 2 shall hear the knell. 

The guards shall start in Stirling's ^ porch ; 

And, when I light the nuptial torch, 

A thousand villages in flames 

Shall scare the slumbers of King James ! 

— Nay, Ellen, blench not thus away. 

And, mother, cease these signs, I pray ; 

I meant not all my heat might say. 

Small need of inroad, or of fight. 

When the sage Douglas may unite 

Each mountain clan in friendly band, 

1 Enough. 

2 The windings of the river Forth : hence the inhabitants of that region. 

3 Stirling Castle, on the Forth, below the junction of the Frith, was a 
vorite residence of the Scottish kings. 



72 SIR WALTER SCOTT, [cant] 

To guard the passes of their land, 
Till the foil'd King, from pathless glen. 
Shall bootless turn him home agen." 

XXXI. 

There are who have, at midnight hour, 

In slumber scaled a dizzy tower, 

And, on the verge that beetled o'er 

The ocean tide's incessant roar, 

Dream'd calmly out their dangerous dream. 

Till waken'd by the morning beam ; 

When, dazzled by the eastern glow, 

Such startler 1 cast his glance below, 

And saw unmeasmed depth around, 

And heard unintermitted sound. 

And thought the battled fence ^ so frail. 

It waved like cobweb in the gale ; — 

Amid his senses' giddy wheel, 

Did he not desperate impulse feel. 

Headlong to plunge himself below, 

And meet the worst his fears foreshow? — 

Thus, Ellen, dizzy and astound,^ 

As sudden ruin yawn'd around. 

By crossing * terrors Avildly toss'd, 

Still for the Douglas fearing most. 

Could scarce the desperate thought withstand, • 

To buy his safety with her hand. 

XXXII.* 

Such purpose dread could Malcolm spy 
In Ellen's quivering lip and eye. 
And eager rose to speak — but ere 

1 The startled dreamer. 

2 " Battled fence," i.e., battlemented rampart. 

3 Astounded. 4 Conflicting. 



THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 73 

His tongue could hurry forth his fear, 

Had Douglas mark'd the hectic strife, 

Where death seem'd combating with life ; 

For to her cheek, in feverish flood, 

One instant rush'd the throbbing blood, 

Then ebbing back, with sudden sway, 

Left its domain as wan as clay. 

" Roderick, enough ! enough ! " he cried, 

" My daughter cannot be thy bride ; 

Not that the blush to wooer dear. 

Nor paleness that of maiden fear. 

It may not be — forgive her, Chief, 

Nor hazard aught for our relief. 

Against his sovereign, Douglas ne'er 

Will level a rebellious spear. 

'Twas I that taught his youthful hand 

To rein a steed and wield a brand ; 

I see him yet, the princely boy ! 

Not Ellen more my pride and joy ; 

I love him still, despite my wrongs. 

By hasty wrath, and slanderous tongues. 

Oh, seek the grace you well may find. 

Without a cause to mine combined." 

XXXIII. 

Twice through the hall the Chieftain strode ; 
The waving of his tartans broad. 
And darken 'd brow, where wounded pride 
With ire and disappointment vied, 
Seem'd, by the torch's gloomy light. 
Like the ill Demon of the night. 
Stooping his pinions' shadowy sway 
Upon the nighted pilgrim's way : 
But, unrequited Love ! thy dart 
Plunged deepest its envenom'd smart. 



74 SIJ^ WALTER SCOTT. 

And Roderick, with thine anguish stung, 
At length the hand of Douglas wrung, 
While eyes that mock'd at tears before, 
With bitter drops were running o'er. 
The death pangs of long-cherish'd hope 
Scarce in that ample breast had scope. 
But, struggling with his spirit proud, 
Convulsive heaved its checker'd shroud,^ 
While every sob — so mute were all — 
Was heard distinctly through the hall. 
The son's despair, the mother's look, 
111 might the gentle Ellen brook ; 
She rose, and to her side there came. 
To aid her parting steps, the Graeme. 

XXXIV. ^ 

Then Roderick from the Douglas broke — 
As flashes flame through sable smoke. 
Kindling its wreaths, long, dark, and low, 
To one broad blaze of ruddy glow, 
So the deep anguish of despair 
Burst, in fierce jealousy, to air. 
With stalwart grasp his hand he laid 
On Malcolm's breast and belted plaid : 
" Back, beardless boy ! " he sternly said, 
'* Back, minion ! hold'st thou thus at naught 
The lesson I so lately taught ? 
This roof, the Douglas, and that maid, 
Thank thou for punishment delay'd." 
Eager as greyhound on his game, 
Fiercely with Roderick grappled Graeme. 
" Perish my name, if aught afford 
Its Chieftain safety save his sword!" 

1 " Checker'd shroud," i.e., his tartan plaid. 



Y THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 7$ 

Thus as they strove, their desperate hand 

Griped to the dagger or the brand, 

And death had been — but Douglas rose, 

And thrust between the struggUng foes 

His giant strength : — " Chieftains, forego ! 

I hold the first who strikes, my foe. — 

Madmen, forbear your frantic jar ! 

What ! is the Douglas fall'n so far, 

His daughter's hand is deem'd the spoil 

Of such dishonorable broil ! " 

Sullen and slowly they unclasp, 

As struck with shame, their desperate grasp, 

And each upon his rival glared. 

With foot advanced, and blade half bared. 

XXXV. 

Ere yet the brands aloft were flung, 
Margaret on Roderick's mantle hung, 
And Malcolm heard his Ellen's scream. 
As falter'd through terrific dream. 
Then Roderick plunged in sheath his sword, 
And veil'd his wrath in scornful word : 
" Rest safe till morning ; pity 'twere 
Such cheek should feel the midnight air ! 
Then mayst thou to James Stuart tell, 
Roderick will keep the lake and fell,^ 
Nor lackey, with his freeborn clan, 
The pageant pomp of earthly man. 
More would he of Clan-Alpine know. 
Thou canst our strength and passes show. — 
Malise, what ho!" — his henchman 2 came; 
" Give our safe-conduct ^ to the Graeme." 

1 Rocky highland or mountain. 

2 An officer or secretary who attended closely on the chieftain (from hengst^ 
"horseman," i.e., groom). 3 Passport. 



76 SIR WALTER SCOTT. 

Young Malcolm answer'd, calm and bold, 
" Fear nothing for thy favorite hold ; 
The spot an angel deigned to grace 
Is bless'd, though robbers haunt the place. 
Thy churlish courtesy for those 
Reserve, who fear to be thy foes. 
As safe to me the mountain way 
At midnight as in blaze of day, 
Though with his boldest at his back. 
Even Roderick Dhu beset the track. — 
Brave Douglas, — lovely Ellen, — nay, 
Naught here of parting will I say. 
Earth does not hold a lonesome glen 
So secret, but we meet agen. — 
Chieftain ! we too shall find an hour," 
He said, and left the silvan bower. 

XXXVI. 

Old Allan follow'd to the strand, 

(Such was the Douglas's command,) 

And anxious told, how, on the mom, 

The stern Sir Roderick deep had sworn. 

The Fiery Cross ^ should circle o'er 

Dale, glen, and valley, down, and moor. 

Much were the peril to the Graeme, 

From those who to the signal came ; 

Far up the lake 'twere safest land, 

Himself would row him to the strand. 

He gave his counsel to the wind. 

While Malcolm did, unheeding, bind. 

Round dirk and pouch and broadsword roll'd. 

His ample plaid in tighten'd fold. 

And stripp'd his limbs to such array 

As best might suit the watery way, — 

1 See Note 4, p. 78. 



THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 77 

XXXVII. 

Then spoke abrupt: "Farewell to thee, 
Pattern of old fidelity ! " 
The Minstrel's hand he kindly press'd, — 
" Oh ! could I point a place of rest ! 
My sovereign holds in ward my land, 
My uncle leads my vassal band ; 
To tame his foes, his friends to aid, 
Poor Malcolm has but heart and blade. 
Yet, if there be one faithful Graeme 
Who loves the Chieftain of his name. 
Not long shall honor'd Douglas dwell. 
Like hunted stag, in mountain cell ; 
Nor, ere yon pride-swoU'n robber dare, — • 
I may not give the rest to air! 
Tell Roderick Dhu, I owed him naught, 
Not the poor service of a boat, 
To waft me to yon mountain side." 
Then plunged he in the flashing tide. 
Bold o'er the flood his head he bore. 
And stoutly steer'd him from the shore ; 
And Allan strain'd his anxious eye, 
Far 'mid the lake his form to spy. 
Darkening across each puny wave. 
To which the moon her silver gave. 
Fast as the cormorant could skim. 
The swimmer plied each active limb ; 
Then landing in the moonlight dell. 
Loud shouted, of his weal to tell. 
The Minstrel heard the far halloo. 
And joyful from the shore withdrew. 



78 S/Ji: ll'ALTEK SCOTT. [cant 



CANTO THIRD. 



THE GATHERING. 



TIME rolls his ceaseless course. The race of yore, 
Who danced our infancy upon their knee. 
And told our marveUng boyhood legends store, 

Of their strange ventures happ'd ^ by land or sea, 
How are they blotted from the things that be ! 

How few, all weak and wither'd of their force, 
Wait on the verge of dark eternity. 

Like stranded WTecks, the tide returning hoarse, 
To sweep them from our sight I Time rolls his ceaseless course 

Yet live there still who - can remember well, 

How, when a mountain chief his bugle blew, 
Both field and forest, dingle, cliff, and dell, 

And soHtar}' heath, the signal knew ; 
And fast the faithful clan around him drew, 

What time 3 the warning note was keenly wound, 
What time aloft their kindred banner flew, 

While clamorous war pipes yell'd the gathering sound. 
And while the Tier}- Cross ■* glanced, like a meteor, round. 

1 " Ventures happ'd," i.e., adventures which happened. 

2 Those who. 3 " What time," i.e., Avhen, 
4 When a chieftain wished to assemble his clan suddenly, he sent out a 

swift and trusty messenger, bearing a symbol, called the Fiery Cross, con- 
sisting of a rough wooden cross the charred ends of which had been quenched 
in the blood of a goat. All members of the clan who saw this symbol, and 
who were capable of bearing arms, were obliged to appear in arms forthwith 
at the appointed rendezvous. Arrived at the next hamlet, the messenger 
delivered the symbol and the name of the rendezvous to the principal person- 



THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 79 

II. 

The summer dawn's reflected hue 

To purple changed Loch Katrine blue ; 

Mildly and soft the western breeze 

Just kiss'd the lake, just stirr'd the trees ; 

And the pleased lake, like maiden coy, 

Trembled but dimpled not for joy ; 

The mountain shadows on her breast 

Were neither broken nor at rest ; 

In bright uncertainty they lie. 

Like future joys to Fancy's eye. 

The water lily to the hght 

Her chahce rear'd of silver bright; 

The doe awoke, and to the lawn, 

Begemm'd with dewdrops, led her fawn ; 

The gray mist left the mountain side. 

The torrent show'd its glistening pride ; 

Invisible in flecked sky, 

The lark sent down her revelry ; 

The blackbird and the speckled thrush 

Good-morrow gave from brake and bush ; 

In answer coo'd the cushat dove 

Her notes of peace, and rest, and love. 

in. 

No thought of peace, no thought of rest, 
Assuaged the storm in Roderick's breast. 
With sheathed broadsword in his hand, 
Abrupt he paced the islet strand, 
And eyed the rising sun, and laid 
His hand on his impatient blade. 

I, who immediately forwarded them by a fresh messenger. In this way 
signal for gathering was disseminated throughout the territory of a large 
1 in a surprisingly short space of time. 



8o . S/J? WALTER SCOTT. [ 

Beneath a rock, his vassals' care 

Was prompt the ritual i to prepare, 

With deep and deathful meaning fraught ; 

For such Antiquity had taught 

Was preface meet, ere yet abroad 

The Cross of Fire should take its road. 

The shrinking band stood oft aghast 

At the impatient glance he cast ; — 

Such glance the mountain eagle threw, 

As, from the cliffs of Benvenue, 

She spread her dark sails on the wind. 

And, high in middle heaven reclined. 

With her broad shadow on the lake. 

Silenced the warblers of the brake. 

IV. 

A heap of wither'd boughs was piled, 
Of juniper and rowan ^ wild. 
Mingled with shivers from the oak. 
Rent by the lightning's recent stroke. 
Brian, the Hermit, by it stood. 
Barefooted, in his frock and hood.^ 
His grisled beard and matted hair 
Obscured a visage of despair ; 
His naked arms and legs, seamed o'er, 
The scars of frantic penance bore. 
That monk, of savage form and face, 
The impending danger of his race 
Had drawn* from deepest sohtude. 
Far in Benharrow's ^ bosom rude. 

1 The ritual or religious ceremony with which the Fiery Cross was ma 

2 Mountain ash. 

3 " Frock and hood," i.e., the usual garments of monks or hefmits 
* " That monk," etc., i.e., the impending danger . . . had drawn t 

monk, etc. 5 a mountain near the head of Loch Lomond. 



THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 8 1 

Not his the mien of Christian priest, 

But Druid's,' from the grave released. 

Whose hardened heart and eye might brook 

On human sacrifice to look ; 

And much, 'twas said, of heathen lore, 

Mixed in the charms he muttered o'er. 

The hallow'd creed gave only worse 

And deadher emphasis of curse ; 

No peasant sought that Hermit's prayer, 

His cave the pilgrim shunn'd with care, 

The eager huntsman knew his bound, 

And in mid-chase called off his hound ; 

Or if, in lonely glen or strath, 

The desert dweller met his path, 

He pray'd, and signed the cross between, 

While terror took devotion's mien. 

V. 

Of Brian's birth strange tales were told. 
His mother watch'd a midnight fold,2 
Built deep within a dreary glen. 
Where scatter'd lay the bones of men, 
In some forgotten battle slain. 
And Bleach'd by drifting wind and rain. 
It might have tamed a warrior's heart, 
To view such mockery of his art ! 
The knot-grass fetter'd there the hand. 
Which once could burst an iron band ; 
Beneath the broad and ample bone, 
That buckler'd heart to fear unknown, 
A feeble and a timorous guest. 
The field-fare ^ framed her lowly nest ; 

1 The Druids were the priests among the ancient Celtic nations in Gaul and 
itain. They worshiped in forests, regarded oaks and mistletoe as sacred, 
i offered human sacrifices. 2 Sheep pen. 3 Bird. 

6 



82 SIR WALTER SCOTT, [CAN' 

There the slow blind-worm left his slime 
On the fleet limbs that mock'd at time ; 
And there, too, lay the leader's skull, 
Still wreathed with chaplet, flush'd and full, 
For heath-bell, with her purple bloom, 
Supplied the bonnet and the plume. 
All night, in this sad glen, the maid 
Sate, shrouded in her mantle's shade : 
— She said, no shepherd sought her side, 
No hunter's hand her snood untied. 
Yet ne'er again, to braid her hair, 
The virgin snood did Alice wear ; 
Gone was her maiden glee and sport, 
Her maiden girdle all too short ; 
Nor sought she, from that fatal night. 
Or holy church, or blessed rite, 
But lock'd her secret in her breast. 
And died in travail, unconfess'd. 

VI. 

Alone, among his young compeers. 

Was Brian from his infant years ; 

A moody and heart-broken boy. 

Estranged from sympathy and joy, • 

Bearing each taunt which careless tongue 

On his mysterious lineage flung. 

Whole nights he spent by moonlight pale. 

To wood and stream his hap to wail, 

Till, frantic, he as truth received 

What of his birth the crowd believed, 

And sought, in mist and meteor fire, 

To meet and know his Phantom Sire ! 

In vain, to soothe his wayward fate. 

The cloister oped her pitying gate ; 3 

In vain, the learning of the age 



THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 83 

Unclasp'd the sable-lettered ^ page : 

Even in its treasures he could find 

Food for the fever of his mind. 

Eager he read whatever tells 

Of magic, cabala,- and spells, 

And every dark pursuit allied 

To curious and presumptuous pride ; 

Till, with fired brain and nerves o'erstrung, 

And heart with mystic horrors wrung, 

Desperate he sought Benharrow's den, 

And hid him from the haunts of men. 

VII. 

The desert gave him visions wild. 
Such as might suit the specter's child. 
Where with black cliffs the torrents toil. 
He watch'd the wheeling eddies boil. 
Till, from their foam, his dazzled eyes 
Beheld the River Demon ^ rise ; 
The mountain mist took form and limb, 
Of noontide hag, or gobHn grim ; 
The midnight wind came wild and dread, 
Swell'd with the voices of the dead ; 
Far on the future battle heath 
His eye beheld the ranks of death : 
Thus the lone Seer, from mankind hurl'd. 
Shaped forth a disembodied world. 
One lingering sympathy of mind 
Still bound him to the mortal kind ; 
The only parent he could claim 
Of ancient Alpine's hneage came. 

1 Black letter, the name of the Old English or mcxiern Gothic letters used 
old manuscript and early printed books. 2 Mysteries. 

3 A malicious spirit supposed by the superstitious Scotch people to in- 
bit lakes and rivers, and to forebode calamity. 



84 S//^ WALTER SCOTT. [c 

Late had he heard, in prophet's dream, 

The fatal Ben-Shie's^ boding scream; 

Sounds,^ too, had come in midnight blast, 

Of charging steeds, careering fast 

Along Benharrow's shingly side, 

Where mortal horseman ne'er might ride ; 

The thunderbolt had split the pine, — 

All augur'd ill to Alpine's line. 

He girt his loins, and came to show 

The signals of impending woe. 

And now stood prompt to bless or ban,^ 

As bade the Chieftain of his clan. 

VIII. 

'Twas all prepared ; * — and from the rock, 
A goat, the patriarch of the flock. 
Before the kindhng pile was laid, 
And pierced by Roderick's ready blade. 
Patient the sickening victim eyed 
The lifeblood ebb in crimson tide, 
Down his clogg'd beard and shaggy limb. 
Till darkness glazed his eyeballs dim. 
The grisly priest, with murmuring prayer, 
A slender crosslet form'd with care, 
A cubit's 5 length in measure due ; 
The shaft and limbs were rods of yew, 
Whose parents in Inch-CaiUiach^ wave 
Their shadows o'er Clan-Alpine's grave. 
And, answering Lomond's breezes deep, 

1 A fairy supposed to indicate coming death or disaster by her lamen 
tions. 2 Sounds of the same foreboding character. ^ Cur 

* The ritual referred to in Canto III. was all prepared. 

5 About eighteen inches. 

« The Isles of Nuns in Loch Lomond, and place of burial of the descei 
ants of MacGregor. 



THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 85 

Soothe many a chieftain's endless sleep. 
The Cross, thus form'd, he held on high, 
With wasted hand, and haggard eye, 
And strange and mingled feelings woke, 
While his anathema he spoke. 

IX. 

" Woe to the clansman who shall view 
This symbol of sepulchral yew. 
Forgetful that its branches grew 
Where weep the heavens their holiest dew 

On Alpine's dweUing low! 
Deserter of his Chieftain's trust, 
He ne'er shall mingle with their dust. 
But, from his sires and kindred thrust, 
Each clansman's execration just 

Shall doom him wrath and woe." 
He paused ; — the word the vassals took. 
With forward step and fiery look. 
On high their naked brands they shook. 
Their clattering targets wildly strook ; ^■ 

And first in murmur low, 
Then, like the billow in his course. 
That far to seaward finds his source, 
And flings to shore his muster'd force. 
Burst, with loud roar, their answer hoarse, , 

" Woe to the traitor, woe ! " 
Ben-an's gray scalp the accents knew,^ 
The joyous wolf from covert drew, 
The exulting eagle scream'd afar, — 
They knew the voice of Alpine's war. 

Struck. 2 " Scalp," etc., i.e., summit the accents heard. 



S6 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [Qi 

X. 

The shout was hush'd on lake and fell, 
The monk resumed his mutter'd spell : 
Dismal and low its accents came, 
The while he scathed ^ the Cross with flame ; 
And the few words that reach'd the air, 
Although the holiest' name was there, 
Had more of blasphemy than prayer. 
But when he shook above the crowd 
Its kindled points, he spoke aloud : — 
** Woe to the wretch who fails to rear 
At this dread sign the ready spear ! 
For, as the flames this symbol sear, 
His home, the refuge of his fear, 

A kindred fate shall know ; 
Far o'er its roof the volumed flame 
Clan-Alpine's vengeance shall proclaim, 
While maids and matrons on his name 
Shall call down wretchedness and shame, 

And infamy and woe." 
Then rose the cry of females, shrill 
As goshawk's whistle on the hill, 
Denouncing 2 misery and ill. 
Mingled with childhood's babbling trill 

Of curses stammer'd slow ; 
Answering, with imprecation dread, 
" Sunk be his home in embers red ! 
And cursed be the meanest shed 
That e'er shall hide the houseless head. 

We doom to want and woe!" 
A sharp and shrieking echo gave, 

1 Scorched; charred. 

2 Upon the recreant who failed to respond to the "dread sign" of tl 
Fiery Cross. 



] THE LADY OF THE LAKE, 87 

Coir-Uriskin,i thy Goblin-cave ! 
And the gray pass where birches wave 
On Beala-nam-bo.2 

XI. 

Then deeper paused the priest anew, 
And hard his laboring breath he drew, 
While, with set teeth and clinched hand, 
And eyes that glow'd like fiery brand, 
He meditated curse more dread, 
And deadlier, on the clansman's head, 
Who, summon'd to his Chieftain's aid, 
The signal saw and disobeyed. 
The crosslet's points of sparkling wood 
He quenched among the bubbling blood, 
And, as again the sign he rear'd. 
Hollow and hoarse his voice was heard : 
" When flits this Cross from man to man, 
Vich- Alpine's summons to his clan. 
Burst be the ear that fails to heed ! 
Palsied the foot that shuns to speed ! 
May ravens tear the careless eyes, 
Wolves make the coward heart their prize ! 
As sinks that blood stream in the earth. 
So may his heart's blood drench his hearth ! 
As dies in hissing gore the spark. 
Quench thou his light, Destruction dark, 
And be the grace to him denied. 
Bought by this sign to all beside ! " 
He ceased ; no echo gave agen 
The murmur of the deep Amen. 

1 A ravine of Benvenue supposed to be haunted by evil spirits. 
'^ The Pass of the Cattle, above Coir-Uriskin. 



88 SIJ^ WALTER SCOTT. [ 

XII. 

Then Roderick, with impatient look, 

From Brian's hand the symbol took : 

" Speed, Mahse, speed ! " he said, and gave 

The crosslet to his henchman brave. 

** The muster-place be Lanrick mead ^ — 

Instant the time — speed, Mahse, speed !" 

Like heath bird, when the hawks pursue, 

A barge across Loch Katrine flew ; 

High stood the henchman on the prow ; 

So rapidly the barge-men row. 

The bubbles, where they launch'd the boat, 

Were all unbroken and afloat. 

Dancing in foam and ripple still, 

When it had near'd the mainland hill ; 

And from the silver beach's side 

Still was the prow three fathom wide. 

When hghtly bounded to the land 

The messenger of blood and brand. 

XIII. 

Speed, Malise, speed! the dun deer's hide^ 

On fleeter foot was never tied. 

Speed, Malise, speed ! such cause of haste 

Thine active sinews never braced. 

Bend 'gainst the steepy hill thy breast. 

Burst down like torrent from its crest ; 

With short and springing footstep pass 

The trembling bog and false morass ; 

Across the brook like roebuck bound, 

And thread the brake hke questing ^ hound ; 

1 A meadow at the western end of Loch Vennachar. 

2 The shoes or buskins of the Highlanders were made of this hide. 

3 Hunting. 



THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 89 

The crag is high, the scaur is deep, 

Yet shrink not from the desperate leap : 

Parch'd are thy burning hps and brow, 

Yet by the fountain pause not now ; 

Herald of battle, fate, and fear. 

Stretch onward in thy fleet career ! 

The wounded hind thou track'st not now, 

Pursuest not maid through greenwood bough, 

Nor pliest thou now thy flying pace 

With rivals in the mountain race ; 

But danger, death, and warrior deed 

Are in thy course — speed, Malise, speed ! 

XIV. 

Fast as the fatal symbol flies. 
In arms the huts and hamlets rise ; 
From winding glen, from upland brown, 
They pour'd each hardy tenant down. 
Nor slack'd the messenger his pace ; 
He show'd the sign, he named the place, 
And, pressing forward like the wind. 
Left clamor and surprise behind. 
The fisherman forsook the strand. 
The swarthy smith took dirk and brand ; 
With changed cheer,i the mower bhthe 
Left in the half-cut swath the scythe ; 
The herds without a keeper stray'd, 
The plow was in mid-furrow stayed. 
The falc'ner toss'd his hawk away, 
The hunter left the stag at bay ; 
Prompt at the signal of alarms, 
Each son of Alpine rush'd to arms ; 
So swept the tumult and affray 
Along the margin of Achray. 
1 State of mind. 



90 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [ca: 

Alas, thou lovely lake! that e'er 

Thy banks should echo sounds of fear ! 

The rocks, the bosky i thickets, sleep 

So stilly on thy bosom deep, 

The lark's blithe carol, from the cloud, 

Seems for the scene too gayly loud. 

XV. 

Speed, Malise, speed! The lake is past, 

Duncraggan's^ huts appear at last. 

And peep, like moss-grown rocks, half seen, 

Half hidden in the copse so green ; 

There mayst thou rest, thy labor done, 

Their lord shall speed the signal on. — 

As stoops the hawk upon his prey. 

The henchman shot him down the way. 

— What woeful accents load the gale ? 

The funeral yell, the female wail ! 

A gallant hunter's sport is o'er, 

A valiant warrior fights no more. 

Who, in the battle or the chase. 

At Roderick's side shall fill his place! — 

Within the hall, where torch's ray 

Supplies the excluded beams of day. 

Lies Duncan on his lowly bier, 

And o'er him streams his widow's tear. 

His stripling son stands mournful by. 

His youngest weeps, but knows not why ; 

The village maids and matrons round 

The dismal coronach ^ resound. 

1 Bushy. 

2 An estate between Lochs Achray and Vennachar. 

3 The Scottish wail or song over the dead. 



THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 91 

XVI. 
CORONACH. 

He is gone on the mountain, 

He is lost to the forest, 
Like a summer-dried fountain, 

When our need was the sorest. 
The font, reappearing. 

From the raindrops shall borrow, 
But to us comes no cheering, 

To Duncan no morrow ! 

The hand of the reaper 

Takes the ears that are hoary, 
But the voice of the weeper 

Wails manhood in glory. 
The autumn winds rushing 

Waft the leaves that are searest, 
But our flower was in flushing,^ 

When blighting was nearest. 

Fleet foot on the correi,^ 

Sage counsel in cumber,^ 
Red hand in the foray. 

How sound is thy slumber! 
Like the dew on the mountain, 

Like the foam on the river, 
Like the bubble on the fountain. 

Thou art gone, and forever! 

XVII. 

See Stumah,* who, the bier beside, 
His master's corpse with wonder eyed, 
Poor Stumah ! whom his least halloo 

Full bloom. 2 The side of a hill which the game usually frequents. 

Trouble. 4 The name of a dog. 



92 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [o 

Could send like lightning o'er the dew, 
Bristles his crest, and points his ears. 
As if some stranger step he hears. 
'Tis not a mourner's muffled tread, 
Who comes to sorrow o'er the dead, 
But headlong haste, or deadly fear. 
Urge the precipitate career. 
All stand aghast : — unheeding all, 
The henchman bursts into the hall ; 
Before the dead man's bier he stood ; 
Held forth the Cross besmear'd with blood : 
" The muster-place is Lanrick mead ; 
Speed forth the signal! clansmen, speed!" 

XVIII. 

Angus, the heir of Duncan's line. 

Sprung forth and seized the fatal sign. 

In haste the stripling to his side 

His father's dirk and broadsword tied ; 

But when he saw his mother's eye 

Watch him in speechless agony. 

Back to her open'd arms he flew, 

Press'd on her lips a fond adieu — 

*' Alas ! " she sobb'd, — " and yet, begone. 

And speed thee forth, like Duncan's son ! " 

One look he cast upon the bier, 

Dash'd from his eye the gathering tear. 

Breathed deep to clear his laboring breast. 

And toss'd aloft his bonnet crest. 

Then, like the high-bred colt, when, freed, 

First he essays his fire and speed. 

He vanish'd, and o'er moor and moss 

Sped forward with the Fiery Cross. 

Suspended was the widow's tear. 

While yet his footsteps she could hear ; 



THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 93 

And when she mark'd the henchman's eye 

Wet with unwonted sympathy, 

*' Kinsman," she said, " his race is run, 

That should have sped thine errand on ; 

The oak has fall'n, — the saphng bough 

Is all Duncraggan's shelter now. 

Yet trust I well, his duty done, 

The orphan's God will guard my son. — 

And you, in many a danger true, 

At Duncan's hest ^ your blades that drew, 

To arms, and guard that orphan's head ! 

Let babes and women wail the dead." 

Then weapon clang, and martial call. 

Resounded through the funeral hall. 

While from the walls the attendant band 

Snatch'd sword and targe, with hurried hand ; 

And short and flitting energy 

Glanced from the mourner's sunken eye. 

As if the sounds to warrior dear 

Might rouse her Duncan from his bier. 

But faded soon that borrow'd force ; 

Grief claim'd his right, and tears their course. 

XIX. 

Benledi saw the Cross of Fire, 
It glanced Hke lightning up Strath- Ire.^ 
O'er dale and hill the summons flew. 
Nor rest nor pause young Angus knew ; 
The tear that gather'd in his eye 
He left the mountain breeze to dry ; 
Until, where Teith's young waters roll, 
Betwixt him and a wooded knoll. 
That graced the sable strath with green, 
The chapel of St. Bride was seen. 
Behest; summons. 2 The valley in which Loch Lubnaig lies. 



94 S^-^ WALTER SCOTT. [c. 

Swoln was the stream, remote the bridge, 

But Angus paused not on the edge ; 

Though the dark waves danced dizzily, 

Though reel'd his sympathetic eye, 

He dash'd amid the torrent's roar : 

His right hand high the crosslet bore. 

His left the poleax grasp'd, to guide 

And stay his footing in the tide. 

He stumbled twice — the foam splash'd high, 

With hoarser swell the stream raced by ; 

And had he fall'n, — forever there, 

Farewell Duncraggan's orphan heir ! 

But still, as if in parting hfe. 

Firmer he grasp'd the Cross of strife, 

Until the opposing bank he gain'd. 

And up the chapel pathway strain'd. 

XX. 

A blithesome rout, that morning tide,^ 
Had sought the chapel of St. Bride. 
Her troth Tombea's- Mziy gave 
To Norman, heir of Armandave,^ 
And, issuing from the Gothic arch, 
The bridal ^ now resumed their march. 
In rude, but glad procession, came 
Bonneted sire and coif-clad dame ; 
And plaided youth, with jest and jeer, 
Which snooded maiden would not hear ; 
And children, that, unwitting* why. 
Lent the gay shout their shrilly cry ; 
And minstrels, that in measures vied 
Before the young and bonny bride, 

1 Season. 2 Tombea and Armandave are names of neighboring farmst( 
3 Those composing the bridal procession. ^ Not knowing. 



THE LADY OF THE LAKE. QS 

Whose downcast eye and cheek disclose 
The tear and blush of morning rose. 
With virgin step, and bashful hand, 
She held the kerchief's snow^ band ; 
The gallant bridegroom, by her side, 
Beheld his prize with victor's pride, 
And the glad mother in her ear 
Was closely whispering word of cheer. 

XXI. 

Who meets them at the churchyard gate? 

The messenger of fear and fate! 

Haste in his hurried accent lies. 

And grief is swimming in his eyes. 

All dripping from the recent flood, 

Panting and travel-soil'd he stood, 

The fatal sign of fire and sword 

Held forth, and spoke the appointed word : 

"The muster-place is Lanrick mead — 

Speed forth the signal! Norman, speed!" 

And must he change so soon the hand, 

Just link'd to his by holy band. 

For the fell Cross of blood and brand? 

And must the day, so blithe that rose, 

And promised rapture in the close, 

Before its setting hour, divide 

The bridegroom from the plighted bride? 

O fatal doom! — it must! it must ! 

Clan-Alpine's cause, her Chieftain's trust. 

Her summons dread, brook no delay ; 

Stretch to the race — away ! away ! 

XXII. 

Yet slow he laid his plaid aside, 
And, hngering, eyed his lovely bride, 



gt? SIR WALTER SCOTT. [ca 

Until he saw the starting tear 

Speak woe he might not stop to cheer ; 

Then, trusting not a second look, 

In haste he sped him up the brook. 

Nor backward glanced, till on the heath 

Where Lubnaig's lake supplies the Teilh. 

— What in the racer's bosom stirr'd ? 

The sickening pang of hope deferr'd. 

And memory, with a torturing train 

Of all his morning visions vain. 

Mingled with love's impatience, came 

The manly thirst for martial fame ; 

The stormy joy of mountaineers, 

Ere yet they rush upon the spears ; 

And zeal for Clan and Chieftain burning. 

And hope, from well-fought field returning. 

With war's red honors on his crest, 

To clasp his Mary to his breast. 

Stung by such thoughts, o'er bank and brae, 

Like fire from flint he glanced away. 

While high resolve, and feeling strong, 

Burst into voluntary song. 



XXIII. 

SONG. 

The heath this night must be my bed. 
The bracken curtain for my head, 
My lullaby the warder's tread, 

Far, far from love and thee, Mary 
To-morrow eve, more stilly laid, 
My couch may be my bloody plaid. 
My vesper song thy wail, sweet maid! 

It will not waken me, Mary ! 



THE LADY OF THE LAKE, 97 

I may not, dare not, fancy now 

The grief that clouds thy lovely brow ; 

I dare not think upon thy vow, 

And all it promised me, Mary. 
No fond regret must Norman know ; 
When bursts Clan- Alpine on the foe, 
His heart must be like bended bow, 

His foot like arrow free, Mary, 

A time will come with feeling fraught, 
For, if I fall in battle fought, 
Thy hapless lover's dying thought 

Shall be a thought of thee, Mary. 
And if retum'd from conquer'd foes, 
How blithely will the evening close. 
How sweet the linnet sing repose, 

To my young bride and me, Mary! 

XXIV. 

Not faster o'er thy heathery braes, 
Balquhidder, speeds the midnight blaze,^ 
Rushing, in conflagration strong, 
Thy deep ravines and dells along, 
Wrapping thy cliffs in purple glow, 
And reddening the dark lakes below ; 
Nor faster speeds it, nor so far, 
As o'er thy heaths the voice of war. 
The signal roused to martial coil ^ 
The sullen margin of Loch Voil, 
Waked still Loch Doine, and to the source 
Alarm'd, Balvaig, thy swampy course ; 
Thence southward turn'd its rapid road 

Blaze of the heather, which is often set on fire by the shepherds to 
itate a growth of young herbage for the sheep. 2 Noise ; bustle. 



h S/A! WALTER SCOTT. 

Adown Strath-Gartney's valley broad. 

Till rose in arms each man might claim 

A portion in Clan-Alpine's name. 

From the gray sire, whose trembling hand 

Could hardly buckle on his brand. 

To tlie raw lxn% whose shaft and bow 

Were yet scarce terror to the crow. 

Each valle}-. each sequesterd glen, 

Muster'd its little horde oi men. 

That met as torrents from the height 

In Highland dales their streams unite. 

Still gathering, as the>' pour along, 

A voice more lond, a tide more strong. 

Till at tlie rendez^-ous tl>ey stood 

By hundreds prompt for blows and blood ; 

Each trained to arms since life began, 

0\nTiing no tie but to his clan. 

No oath, but by his Chieftain's hand. 

No law, but Roderick Dhu's command. 

XXV. 

That summer mam had Roderick Dhu 
Suney'd the skirts of Benvenue, 
And sent his scouts o'er hill and heath. 
To \^ew the frontiers of Menteith. 
All backward came with news of truce : 
Still lay each martial Graeme ^ and Bruce,^ 
In Rednock - courts no horsemen wait, 
No banner waved on Cardross- gate. 
On Duchray's - towers no beacon shone. 
Nor scared the herons from Loch Con ; 
All seemed at peace. — Now wot ye why 
Tlie Chieftain, u-ith such anxious eye, 

1 A powerful Ivowland family (see Note i, p. 52). 

2 A castle in the Forth valley (see map, p. 2). 



THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 99 

Ere to the muster he repair, 

This western frontier scann'd with care? — 

In Benvenue's most darksome cleft, 

A fair, though cruel, pledge was left ; 

For Douglas, to his promise true. 

That morning from the isle withdrew, 

And in a deep sequester'd dell 

Had sought a low and lonely cell. 

By many a bard, in Celtic tongue, 

Has Coir-nan-Uriskin ^ been sung ; 

A softer name the Saxons gave. 

And called the grot the Goblin-cave. 

XXVI. 

It was a wild and strange retreat, 
As e'er was trod by outlaw's feet. 
The dell, upon the mountain's crest, 
Yawn'd hke a gash on warrior's breast ; 
Its trench had stayed full many a rock, 
Hurl'd by primeval earthquake shock 
From Benvenue's gray summit wild. 
And here, in random ruin piled, 
They frown'd incumbent o'er the spot. 
And form'd the rugged silvan grot. 
The oak and birch, with mingled shade, 
At noontide there a twilight made, 
Unless when short and sudden shone 
Some straggling beam on cliflf or stone, 
With such a glimpse as prophet's eye 
Gains on thy depth, Futurity. 
No murmur waked the solemn stiil,^ 
Save tinkling of a fountain rill ; 
But when the wind chafed with the lake, 
A sullen sound would upward break, 

1 See Note i, p. 87. 2 Stillness. 



Ipo ^ S/J^ WALTER SCOTT. 

With dashing hollow voice, that spoke 
The incessant war of wave and rock. 
Suspended cliffs, with hideous sway, 
Seem'd nodding o'er the cavern gray. 
From such a den the wolf had sprung, 
In such the wild-cat leaves her young ; 
Yet Douglas and his daughter fair 
Sought for a space their safety there. 
Gray Superstition's whisper dread 
Debarr'd the spot to vulgar tread ; 
For there, she said, did fays resort, 
And satyrs i hold their silvan court. 
By moonlight tread their mystic maze, 
And blast the rash beholder's gaze. 

xxvii. 

Now eve, with western shadows long. 
Floated on Katrine bright and strong, 
When Roderick, with a chosen few, 
Repass'd the heights of Benvenue. 
Above the Goblin-cave they go. 
Through the wild pass of Beal-nam-bo : 
The prompt retainers speed before. 
To launch the shallop from the shore. 
For 'cross Loch Katrine. hes his way 
To view the passes of Achray, 
And place his clansmen in array. 
Yet lags the Chief in musing mind, 
Unwonted sight, his men behind. 
A single page, to bear his sword. 
Alone attended on his lord ; 
The rest their way through thickets break. 
And soon await him by the lake, 

1 Silvan deities of Greek mythology, with head and body of a man an( 
of a goat. 



THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 

It was a fair and gallant sight, 

To view them from the neighboring height, 

By the low-level'd sunbeam's light! 

For strength and stature, from the clan 

Each warrior was a chosen man, 

As even afar might well be seen, 

By their proud step and martial mien. 

Their feathers dance, their tartans float, 

Their targets gleam, as by the boat 

A wild and warHke group they stand, 

That well became such mountain strand. 

XXVIII. 

Their Chief, with step reluctant, still 
Was lingering on the craggy hill, 
Hard by where turn'd apart the road 
To Douglas's obscure abode. 
It was but with that dawning morn, 
That Roderick Dhu had proudly sworn 
To drown his love in war's wild roar, 
Nor think of Ellen Douglas more ; 
But he who stems ^ a stream with sand, 
And fetters flame with flaxen band, 
Has yet a harder task to prove — 
By firm resolve to conquer love ! 
Eve finds the Chief, like restless ghost, 
Still hovering near his treasure lost ; 
For though his haughty heart deny 
A parting meeting to his eye, 
Still fondly strains liis anxious ear, 
The accents of her voice to hear. 
And inly did he curse the breeze 
That waked to sound the rustling trees. 

1 Stops ; checks. 



I02 S/A' WALTER SCOTT. fcJ 

But hark ! what mingles in the strain ? 

It is the harp of Allan-Bane, 

That wakes its measure slow and high, 

Attuned to sacred minstrelsy. 

What melting voice attends the strings ? 

'Tis Ellen, or an angel, sings. 

XXIX. 

HVMX TO THE VIRGIN. 

Ave Maria .' ^ maiden mild ! 

Listen to a maiden's prayer! 
Thou canst hear though from the wild, 

Thou canst save amid despair. 
Safe may we sleep beneath thy care, 

Though banish'd, outcast, and reviled — 
Maiden! hear a maiden's prayer! 

Mother, hear a suppliant child ! 

Ave Maria ! 

Ave Maria .' undefiled ! 

The flinty couch we now must share 
Shall seem with down of eider - piled, 

If thy protection hover there. 
The murky cavern's heavy air 

Shall breathe of balm if thou hast smiled ; 
Then, Maiden! hear a maiden's prayer! 

Mother, list a suppliant child ! 

Ave Maria / 

Ave Maria / stainless styled ! 

Foul demons of the earth and air, 

1 Hail, Mary! The beginning of the Roman Catholic prayer to 
Virgin Mary. 

2 " Down of eider," i.e., the soft breast feathers of the eider duck. 



THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 103 

From this their wonted haunt exiled. 

Shall flee before thy presence fair. 
VVe bow us to our lot of care, 

Beneath thy guidance reconciled ; 
Hear for a maid a maiden's prayer! 

And for a father hear a child! 

Ave Maria ! 

XXX. 

Died on the harp the closing hymn. — 
Unmoved in attitude and limb, 
As list'ning still. Clan- Alpine's lord 
Stood leaning on his heavy sword. 
Until the page, with humble sign. 
Twice pointed to the sun's decline. 
Then while his plaid he round him cast, 
*' It is the last time — 'tis the last," 
He mutter'd thrice, — "the last time e'er 
That angel voice shall Roderick hear! " 
It was a goading thought — his stride 
Hied hastier down the mountain side; 
Sullen he flung him in the boat. 
And instant 'cross the lake it shot. 
They landed in that silvery bay, 
And eastward held their hasty way, 
Till, with the latest beams of light. 
The band arrived on Lanrick height, 
Where muster' d, in the vale below, 
Clan- Alpine's men in martial show. 

XXXI. 

A various scene the clansmen made ; 
Some sate, some stood, some slowly stray'd ; 
But most, with mantles folded round, 
Were couch'd to rest upon the ground. 



104 -y/^? WALTER SCOTT. [c 

Scarce to be known by curious eye, 

From the deep heather where they He, 

So well was match' d the tartan screen 

With heath bell dark and brackens green ; 

Unless where, here and there, a blade. 

Or lance's point, a glimmer made. 

Like glowworm twinkling through the shade. 

But when, advancing through the gloom, 

They saw the Chieftain's eagle plume, 

Their shout of welcome, shrill and wide. 

Shook the steep mountain's steady side. 

Thrice it arose, and lake and fell 

Three times return 'd the martial yell ; 

It died upon Bochastle's plain. 

And Silence claim'd her evening reign. 



CANTO FOURTH. 



THE PROPHECY. 



THE rose is fairest when 'tis budding new. 
And hope is brightest when it dawns from fears ; 
The rose is sweetest wash'd with morning dew. 
And love is loveHest when embalm *d in tears. 
O wilding ^ rose, whom fancy thus endears, 
I bid your blossoms in my bonnet wave. 
Emblem of hope and love through future years !" — 

Thus spoke young Norman, heir of Armandave, 
What time the sun arose on Vennachar's broad wave. 

1 Wild. 



THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 105 



Such fond conceit, half said, half sung. 

Love prompted to the bridegroom's tongue, 

All while he stripp'd the wild-rose spray. 

His ax and bow beside him lay. 

For on a pass 'twixt lake and wood, 

A wakeful sentinel he stood. 

Hark! on the rock a footstep rung. 

And instant to his arms he sprung. 

"Stand, or thou diest ! — What, Malise? — soon 

Art thou return'd from Braes of Doune. 

By thy keen step and glance I know. 

Thou bring'st us tidings of the foe." — 

(For while the Fiery Cross hied on, 

On distant scout had Malise gone.) 

" Where sleeps the Chief ?" the henchman said.- 

" Apart, in yonder misty glade ; 

To his lone couch I'll be your guide." — 

Then call'd a slumberer by his side, 

And stirr'd him with his slacken'd bow — 

" Up, up, Glentarkin! rouse thee, ho ! 

We seek the Chieftain ; on the track. 

Keep eagle watch till I come back." 



Together up the pass they sped : 

" What of the foemen ? " Norman said. — 

" Varying reports from near and far ; 

This certain, — that a band of war 

Has for two days been ready boune,^ 

At prompt command, to march from Doune ; 

King James, the while, with princely powers, 

" Boune " itself means " ready" in Scotch: hence its use here is tau- 

gy- 



io6 S/A' WALTER SCOTT. \ci 

Holds revelry in Stirling towers. 

Soon will this dark and gathering cloud 

Speak on our glens in thunder loud. 

Inured to bide such bitter bout, 

The warrior's plaid may bear it out ; ^ 

But, Norman, how wilt thou provide 

A shelter for thy bonny bride ? " — 

" What ! know ye not that Roderick's care 

To the lone isle hath caused repair 

Each maid and matron of the clan, 

And every child and aged man 

Unfit for arms ; and given his charge,^ 

Nor skiff nor shallop, boat nor barge, 

Upon these lakes shall float at large, 

But all beside the islet moor. 

That such dear pledge may rest secure ? " — 

IV. 

"'Tis well advised — the. Chief tain's plan 

Bespeaks the father of his clan. ^ 

But wherefore sleeps Sir Roderick Dhu 

Apart from all his followers true }" — 

" It is, because last evening-tide 

Brian an augury hath tried. 

Of that dread kind which must not be 

Unless in dread extremity ; 

The Taghairm ^ call'd ; by which, afar, 

1 " Inured to bide," etc., i.e., accustomed to endure privations, the 
riot may withstand the coming storm. 2 Command ; order. 

3 An old Highland mode of " reading the future." "A person 
wrapped up in the skin of a newly slain bullock, and deposited besi 
waterfall, or at the bottom of a precipice, or in some other strange, 
and unusual situation. In this situation he revolved in his mind the que: 
proposed, and whatever was impressed upon him by his exalted imagin: 
passed for the inspiration of the disembodied spirits who haunt the des 
recesses. " — Scoti. 



THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 1 07 

Our sires foresaw the events of war. 
Duncraggan's milk-white bull they slew." 

MALISE. 

"Ah! well the gallant brute I knew! 
The choicest of the prey we had, 
When swept our merry men Gallangad.^ 
His hide was snow, his horns were dark, 
His red eye glow'd like fiery spark ; 
So fierce, so tameless, and so fleet. 
Sore did he cumber our retreat, 
And kept our stoutest kernes ^ in awe, 
Even at the pass of Beal 'maha. 
But steep and flinty was the road, 
And sharp the hurrying pikeman's goad, 
And when we came to Dennan's Row, 
A child might scathless ^ stroke his brow." 

V. 

NORMAN. 

"That bull was slain : his reeking hide 
They stretch'd the cataract beside, 
Whose waters their wild tumult toss 
Adown the black and craggy boss 
Of that huge cliff, whose ample verge 
Tradition calls the Hero's Targe. 
Couch'd on a shelve beneath its brink. 
Close where the thundering torrents sink, 
Rocking beneath their headlong sway, 
And drizzled by the ceaseless spray, 
Midst groan of rock, and roar of stream. 
The wizard waits prophetic dream. 

South of Loch Lomond. 2 Foot soldiers. 3 Without injury. 



io8 S/M WALTER SCOTT. \ch 

Nor distant rests the Chief ; — but hush ! 
See, ghding slow through mist and bush, 
The Hermit gains yon rock, and stands 
To gaze upon our slumbering bands. 
Seems he not, Malise, hke a ghost, 
That hovers o'er a slaughter'd host ? 
Or raven on the blasted oak, 
That, watching while the deer is broke,^ 
His morsel claims with sullen croak ? " 

MALISE. 

— *' Peace ! peace ! to other than to me, 

Thy words were evil augury ; 

But still I hold Sir Roderick's blade 

Clan-Alpine's omen and her aid, 

Not aught that, glean'd from heaven or hell, 

Yon fiend-begotten monk can tell. 

The Chieftain joins him, see — and now. 

Together they descend the brow." 

VI. 

And, as they came, with Alpine's lord 
The Hermit Monk held solemn word : — 
" Roderick ! it is a fearful strife. 
For man endowed with mortal life. 
Whose shroud of sentient clay can still 
Feel feverish pang and fainting chill, 
Whose eye can stare in stony trance, 
Whose hair can rouse Hke warrior's lance, — 
'Tis hard for such to view, unfurl'd, 
The curtain of the future world. 
Yet, witness every quaking limb. 
My sunken pulse, my eyeballs dim, 



1 Cut 



up. 



THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 109 

My soul with harrowing anguish torn, 

This for my Chieftain have I borne ! — 

The shapes that sought my fearful couch, 

A human tongue may ne'er avouch ; 

No mortal man, — save he, who, bred 

Between the living and the dead, 

Is gifted beyond nature's law, — 

Had e'er survived to say he saw. 

At length the fateful answer came, 

In characters of Hving flame! 

Not spoke in word, nor blazed 1 in scroll. 

But borne and branded on my soul ; — 

Which spills the foremost foeman's life, 

That party conquers in the strife." — 

Vll. 

"Thanks, Brian, for thy zeal and care! 

Good is thine augury, and fair. 

Clan-Alpine ne'er in battle stood. 

But first our broadswords tasted blood. 

A surer victim still I know, 

Self-offer'd to the auspicious blow : 

A spy has sought my land this morn, — 

No eve shall witness his return ! 

My followers guard each pass's mouth, 

To east, to westward, and to south ; 

Red Murdoch, bribed to be his guide, 

Has charge to lead his steps aside, 

Till, in deep path or dingle brown. 

He hght on those shall bring him down. 

— But see, who comes his news to show ! 

Malise! what tidings of the foe ? " — 

1 Emblazoned. 



no S/R WALTER SCOTT. [c> 

VIII. 

" At Doune, o'er many a spear and glaive ^ 

Two Barons proud their banners wave. 

I saw the Moray's silver star, 

And mark'd the sable pale^ of Mar." — 

" By Alpine's soul, high tidings those ! 

I love to hear of worthy foes. 

When move they on ? " — "To-morrow's noon 

Will see them here for battle boune." — 

" Then shall it see a meeting stern ! — 

But, for the place — say, couldst thou learn 

Naught of the friendly clans of Earn ? ^ \ 

Strengthened by them, we well might bide j 

The battle on Benledi's side. « 

Thou couldst not ? — Well! Clan- Alpine's men ' 

Shall man the Trosachs' shaggy glen ; 

Within Loch Katrine's gorge we'll fight, 

All in our maids' and matrons' sight. 

Each for his hearth and household fire, 

Father for child, and son for sire. 

Lover for maid beloved ! — But why — 

Is it the breeze affects mine eye ? 

Or dost thou come, ill-omened tear ! 

A messenger of doubt or fear ? 

No ! sooner may the Saxon lance 

Unfix Benledi from his stance, ^ 

Than doubt or terror can pierce through 

The unyielding heart of Roderick Dhu ! 

'Tis stubborn as his trusty targe. 

Each to his post — all know their charge." 

The pibroch sounds, the bands advance. 

The broadswords gleam, the banners dance, 

1 A sword. 2 Black band in the coat of arms of the Earls of Mj 

3 Loch Earn region. ^ Foundation. 



THE LADY OF THE LAKE. iiT 

Obedient to the Chieftain's glance. 
— I turn me from the martial roar, 
And seek Coir-Uriskin once more. 

IX. 

Where is the Douglas? — he is gone; 
And Ellen sits on the gray stone 
Fast by the cave, and makes her moan ; 
While vainly Allan's words of cheer 
Are pour'd on her unheeding ear. — 
" He will return — Dear lady, trust ! — 
With joy return ; — he will — he must. 
Well was it time to seek, afar, 
Some refuge from impending war, 
When e'en Clan- Alpine's rugged swarm 
Are cow'd by the approaching storm. 
I saw their boats, with many a light, 
Floating the hvelong yesternight. 
Shifting Hke flashes darted forth 
By the red streamers of the north ; ^ 
I mark'd at morn how close they ride, 
Thick moor'd by the lone islet's side. 
Like wild ducks couching in the fen. 
When stoops the hawk upon the glen. 
Since this rude race dare not abide 
The peril on the mainland side. 
Shall not thy noble father's care 
Some safe retreat for thee prepare ? " — 

X. 

ELLEN. 

" No, Allan, no ! Pretext so kind 
My wakeful terrors could not blind. 

1 " Red streamers,'* etc., i.e., the aurora borealls. 



no 

*I2 S/R WALTER SCOTT, 

When in such tender tone, yet grave, 

Douglas a parting blessing gave, 

The tear that glisten'd in his eye 

Drown'd not his purpose fix'd and high. 

My soul, though feminine and weak, 

Can image his ; e'en as the lake, 

Itself disturb'd by slightest stroke, 

Reflects the invulnerable rock. 

He hears report of battle rife. 

He deems himself the cause of strife. 

I saw him redden, when the theme 

Turn'd, Allan, on thine idle dream 

Of Malcolm Graeme in fetters bound. 

Which I, thou saidst, about him wound. 

Think'st thou he trow'd ^ thine omen aught ? 

Oh no ! 'twas apprehensive thought 

For the kind youth, — for Roderick too — 

(Let me be just) that friend so true ; 

In danger both, and in our cause ! 

Minstrel, the Douglas dare not pause. 

Why else that solemn warning given, 

* If not on earth, we meet in heaven ? ' 

Why else, to Cambus-kenneth's fane,^ ! 

If eve return him not again. 

Am I to hie, and make me known ? 

Alas ! he goes to Scotland's throne. 

Buys his friend's safety with his own ; 

He goes to do — what I had done. 

Had Douglas' daughter been his son ! " — 



XI. 

" Nay, lovely Ellen ! — dearest, nay ! 
If aught should his return delay, 

1 Trusted. 2 An abbey or church. This abbey is not far from Sti 



THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 113 

He only named yon holy fane 
As fitting place to meet again. 
Be sure he's safe ; and for the Gramme, — 
Heaven's blessing on his gallant name ! — 
My vision'd sight may yet prove true, 
Nor bode ^ of ill to him or you. 
When did my gifted - dream beguile ? ^ 
Think of the stranger at the isle, 
And think upon the harpings slow, 
That presaged this approaching woe! 
Sooth was my prophecy of fear ; 
Beheve it when it augurs cheer. 
Would we had left this dismal spot! 
Ill luck still haunts a fairy grot. 
Of such a wondrous tale I know — 
Dear lady, change that look of woe, 
My harp was wont thy grief to cheer." — 

ELLEN. 

*' Well, be it as thou wilt ; I hear. 
But cannot stop the bursting tear." 
The Minstrel tried his simple art, 
But distant far was Ellen's heart. 

XII. 
BALLAD. 

Alice Brand. 

Merry it is in the good greenwood. 

When the mavis* and merle ^ are singing, 

When the deer sweeps by, and the hounds are in cry. 
And the hunter's horn is ringing. 

Presage. 2 Prophetic. 3 Deceive. * Song thrush. 

Blackbird. 
8 



114 SIR WALTER SCOTT. 

" O Alice Brand, my native land 

Is lots for love of you ; 
And we must hold by wood and wold,^ 

As outlaws wont to do. 

•' O Alice, 'twas all for thy locks so bright, 
And 'twas all for thine eyes so blue, 

That on the night of our luckless flight. 
Thy brother bold I slew. 

" Now must I teach to hew the beech 
The hand that held the glaive, 

For leaves to spread our lowly bed, 
And stakes to fence our cave. 

"And for vest of pall,- thy finger small, 

That wont on harp to stray, 
A cloak must shear from the slaughtered deer, 

To keep the cold away." — 

*' O Richard t if my brother died, 

'Twas but a fatal chance ; 
For darkling 3 was the battle tried. 

And fortune sped the lance. 

"If pall and vair* no more I wear, 

Nor thou the crimson sheen, 
As warm, we'll say, is the russet^ gray, 

As gay the forest-green.^ 

"And, Richard, if our lot be hard, 
And lost thy native land, 

I Open country. 2 a rich fabric. 3 !„ the dark. 

* Fur of the squirrel. 5 Coarse homespun cloth. 

* The clothing of a hunter. 



I 



THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 1 15 

Still Alice has her own Richard, 
And he his Alice Brand." 



XIII. 
BALLAD CONTINUED. 

'Tis merry, 'tis merry, in good greenwood. 
So blithe Lady Alice is singing ; 

On the beech's pride, and oak's brown side, 
Lord Richard's ax is ringing. 

Up spoke the moody Elfin King, 

Who won'd ^ within the hill, — 
Like wind in the porch of a ruin'd church, 

His voice was ghostly shrill. 

" Why sounds yon stroke on beech and oak. 

Our moonhght circle's screen ? 
Or who comes here to chase the deer, 

Beloved of our Elfin Queen ? 
Or who may dare on wold to wear 

The fairies' fatal green! 

" Up, Urgan, up! to yon mortal hie, 

For thou wert christen'd man ; 
For cross or sign thou wilt not fly. 

For mutter'd word or ban. 

" Lay on him the curse of the wither'd heart. 

The curse of the sleepless eye ; 
Till he wish and pray that his life would part, 

Nor yet find leave to die." 

1 Dwelt. 



i6 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

XIV. 
BALLAD CONTINUED. 

'Tis merry, 'tis merry, in good greenwood, 
Though the birds have still'd their singing! 

The evening blaze doth Ahce raise, 
And Richard is fagots bringing. 

Up Urgan starts, that hideous dwarf, 

Before Lord Richard stands, 
And, as he cross'd and bless'd himself, 
" I fear not sign," quoth the grisly elf, 

" That is made with bloody hands." 

But out then spoke she, Alice Brand, 

That woman void of fear, — 
"And if there's blood upon his hand, 

'Tis but the blood of deer." — 

" Now loud thou hest, thou bold of mood ! 

It cleaves unto his hand. 
The stain of thine own kindly ^ blood, 

The blood of Ethert Brand." 

Then forward stepp'd she, Alice Brand, 

And made the holy sign, — 
"And if there's blood on Richard's hand, 

A spotless hand is mine. 

"And I conjure thee, demon elf, 

By Him whom demons fear. 
To show us whence thou art thyself. 

And what thine errand here ? " 

1 Kindred. 



IV.] THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 1 17 

XV. 

BALLAD CONTINUED. 

" 'Tis merry, 'tis merry, in Fairyland, 

When fairy birds are singing, 
When the court doth ride by their monarch's side, 

With bit and bridle ringing : 

" And gayly shines the Fairyland — 

But all is glistening show. 
Like the idle gleam that December's beam 

Can dart on ice and snow. 

"And fading, like that varied gleam, 

Is our inconstant shape. 
Who now like knight and lady seem, 

And now hke dwarf and ape. 

" It was between the night and day, 

When the Fairy King has power. 
That I sunk down in a sinful fray, 
And, 'twixt life and death, was snatched away 

To the joyless Elfin bower. 

" But wist 1 I of a woman bold. 

Who thrice my brow durst sign, 
I might regain my mortal mold, 

As fair a form as thine." 

She cross'd him once — she cross'd him twice — 

That lady was so brave ; 
The fouler grew his goblin hue, 

The darker grew the cave. 

1 Knew. 



Slli WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

She cross' d him thrice, that lady bold ; 

He rose beneath her hand 
The fairest knight on Scottish mold, 

Her brother, Ethert Brand! 

Merry it is in good greenwood, 

When the mavis and merle are singing. 

But merrier were they in Dunfermline i gray, 
When all the bells were ringing. 



XVI. 

Just as the minstrel sounds were stayed, 

A stranger chmb'd the steepy glade ; 

His martial step, his stately mien. 

His hunting suit of Lincoln green. 

His eagle glance, remembrance claims — 

'Tis Snowdoun's Knight, 'tis James Fitz-James. 

Ellen beheld as in a dream. 

Then, starting, scarce suppress'd a scream : 

" O stranger ! in such hour of fear. 

What evil hap has brought thee here ? " — 

" An evil hap how can it be. 

That bids me look again on thee ? 

By promise bound, my former guide 

Met me betimes this morning tide, 

And marshal'd, over bank and boume,^ 

The happy path of my return." — 

**The happy path ! — what ! said he naught 

Of war, of battle to be fought, 

Of guarded pass ? " — " No, by my faith ! 

Nor saw I aught could augur scathe." ^ — 

1 A town in Fifeshire, thirteen miles northwest of Edinburgh, the resi- 
dence of the early Scottish kings. Its Abbey of the Gray Friars was the 
royal burial place. 2 Boundary ; stream. ^ Harm. 



IV.] THE LADY OF THE LAKE, II9 

" Oh haste thee, Allan, to the kern,i 
— Yonder his tartans I discern ; 
Learn thou his purpose, and conjure 
That he will guide the stranger sure ! — 
What prompted thee, unhappy man ? 
The meanest serf in Roderick's clan 
Had not been bribed by love or fear, 
Unknown to him to guide thee here." 

XVI L 

" Sweet Ellen, dear my life must be, 

Since it is worthy care from thee ; 

Yet life I hold but idle breath. 

When love or honor's weigh'd with death. 

Then let me profit by my chance. 

And speak my purpose bold at once. 

I come to bear thee from a wild. 

Where ne'er before such blossom smiled ; 

By this soft hand to lead thee far 

From frantic scenes of feud and war. 

Near Bochastle my horses wait ; 

They bear us soon to Stirling gate. 

I'll place thee in a lovely bower, 

I'll guard thee like a tender flower" — 

"Oh! hush, Sir Knight ! 'twere female art, 

To say I do not read thy heart ; 

Too much, before, my selfish ear 

Was idly soothed my praise to hear. 

That fatal bait hath lured thee back, 

In deathful hour, o'er dangerous track ; 

And how, oh how, can I atone 

The wreck my vanity brought on ! — 

1 Foot soldier. Referring to the treacherous guide, Red Murdoch (see 
Stanza vil. p. 109). 



SIJ^ WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

One way remains — I'll tell him all — 

Yes I struggling bosom, forth it shall ! 

Thou, whose light folly bears the blame 

Buy thine own pardon with thy shame ! 

But first — my father is a man 

Outlaw'd and exiled, under ban ; 

The price of blood is on his head. 

With me 'twere infamy to wed. — 

Still v/ouldst thou speak ? — then hear the truth ! 

Fitz-James, there is a noble youth, — 

If yet he is ! — exposed for me 

And mine to dread extremity i — 

Thou hast the secret of my heart ; 

Forgive, be generous, and depart 1 " 

XVIII. 

Fitz-James knew every wily train ^ 

A lady's fickle heart to gain ; 

But here he knew and felt them vain. 

There shot no glance from Ellen's eye, 

To give her steadfast speech the lie ; 

In maiden confidence she stood. 

Though mantled in her cheek the blood, 

And told her love with such a sigh 

Of deep and hopeless agony, 

As^ death had seal'd her Malcolm's doom, 

And she sat son-owing on his tomb. 

Hope vanish'd from Fitz-James's eye. 

But not with hope fled sympathy. 

He proffer'd to attend her side. 

As brother would a sister guide, — 

" Oh ! little know'st thou Roderick's heart ! 

Safer for both we go apart. 

1 Danger. 2 Artifice. ^ As if. 



IV.] THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 

Oh haste thee, and from Allan learn, 

If thou mayst trust yon wily kern." 

With hand upon his forehead laid, 

The conflict of his mind to shade, 

A parting step or two he made ; 

Then, as some thought had cross'd his brain. 

He paused, and turn'd, and came again. 

XIX. 

" Hear, lady, yet, a parting word ! — 

It chanced in fight that my poor sword 

Preserved the life of Scotland's lord. 

This ring the grateful Monarch gave, 

And bade, when I had boon to crave, 

To bring it back, and boldly claim 

The recompense that I would name. 

Ellen, I am no courtly lord. 

But one who lives by lance and sword, 

Whose castle is his helm and shield, 

His lordship the embattled field. 

AVhat from a prince can I demand. 

Who neither reck i of state nor land ? 

Ellen, thy hand — the ring is thine ; 

Each guard and usher knows the sign. 

Seek thou the King without delay ; 

This signet shall secure thy way ; 

And claim thy suit, whate'er it be. 

As ransom of his pledge to me." 

He placed the golden circlet on. 

Paused — kiss'd her hand — and then was gone. 

The aged Minstrel stood aghast, 

So hastily Fitz-James shot past. 

He join'd his guide, and wending down 

1 Take heed. 



122 S//^ WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

The ridges of the mountain brown, 
Across the stream they took their way, 
That joins Loch Katrine to Achray. 

XX. 

All in the Trosachs' glen was still, 
Noontide was sleeping on the hill : 
Sudden his guide whoop'd loud and high — 
" Murdoch ! was that a signal cry ? " — 
He stammer'd forth — "I shout to scare 
Yon raven from his dainty fare." 
He look'd — he knew the raven's prey. 
His own brave steed : — " Ah ! gallant gray ! 
For thee — for me, perchance — 'twere well 
We ne'er had seen the Trosachs' dell. — 
Murdoch, move first — but silently; 
Whistle or whoop, and thou shalt die ! " 
Jealous and sullen, on they fared, 
Each silent, each upon his guard 

XXI. 

Now wound the path its dizzy ledge 
Around a precipice's edge. 
When lo ! a wasted female form. 
Blighted by wrath of sun and storm, 
In tatter'd weeds ^ and wild array. 
Stood on a cHff beside the way. 
And glancing round her restless eye. 
Upon the wood, the rock, the sky, 
Seem'd naught to mark, yet all to spy. 
Her brow was wreath'd with gaudy broom ; 
With gesture wild she waved a plume 
Of feathers, which the eagles fling 
To crag and cliff from dusky wing ; 
1 Garments. 



THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 123 

Such spoils her desperate step had sought, 
Where scarce was footing for the goat. 
The tartan plaid she first descried, 
And shriek'd till all the rocks replied ; 
As loud she laugh'd when near they drew, 
For then the Lowland garb she knew ; 
And then her hands she wildly wrung, 
And then she wept, and then she sung — 
She sung! — the voice, in better time. 
Perchance to harp or lute might chime ; 
And now, though strain'd and roughen'd, still 
Rung wildly sweet to dale and hill. 

XXII. 

SONG. 

They bid me sleep, they bid me pray. 

They say my brain is warp'd ^ and wrung — 

I cannot sleep on Highland brae, 
I cannot pray in Highland tongue. 

But were I now where Allan '-^ glides. 

Or heard my native Devan's 2 tides, 

So sweetly would I rest, and pray 

That Heaven would close my wintry day! 

'Twas thus my hair they bade me braid, 
They made me to the church repair ; 

It was my bridal morn, they said, 

And my true love would meet me there. 

But woe betide the cruel guile. 

That drown'd in blood the morning smile ! 

And woe betide the fairy dream ! 

I only waked to sob and scream. 

1 Awry ; confused, 

2 A beautiful stream which joins the Forth near Stirling. 



124 S/A' IVALTER SCOTT. [canto 

XXIII. 

" Who is this maid ? what means her lay ? 

She hovers o'er the hollow way, 

And flutters wide her mantle gray, 

As the lone heron spreads his wing, 

By twilight, o'er a haunted spring." — 

" 'Tis Blanche of Devan," Murdoch said, 

'*A crazed and captive Lowland maid, 

Ta'en on the morn she was a bride. 

When Roderick foray'd Devan-side ; 

The gay bridegroom resistance made. 

And felt our Chief's unconquer'd blade. 

I marvel she is now at large. 

But oft she 'scapes from Maudlin's charge. — 

Hence, brain-sick fool ! " — He raised his bow : — 

" Now, if thou strikest her but one blow, 

I'll pitch thee from the cliff as far 

As ever peasant pitch'd a bar ! " ^ — 

^' Thanks, champion, thanks! " the maniac cried, 

And press'd her to Fitz-James's side. 

" See the gray pennons I prepare. 

To seek my true love through the air ! 

I will not lend that savage groom. 

To break his fall, one downy plume ! 

No ! — deep amid disjointed stones, 

The wolves shall batten 2 on his bones, 

And then shall his detested plaid. 

By bush and brier in mid air stayed. 

Wave forth a banner fair and free. 

Meet signal for their revelry." — 

1 " Pitching the bar " was a favorite athletic sport in Scotland. 

2 Fatten. 



IV.] THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 125 

XXIV. 

" Hush thee, poor maiden, and be still! " — 
" Oh ! thou look'st kindly, and I will. — 
Mine eye has dried and wasted been, 
But still it loves the Lincoln green ; 
And, though mine ear is all unstrung, 
Still, still it loves the Lowland tongue. 

" For oh my sweet William was forester true, 
He stole poor Blanche's heart away ! 

His coat it was all of the greenwood hue, 
And so blithely he trill'd the Lowland lay! 

" It was not that I meant to tell . . . 
But thou art wise, and guessest well." 
Then, in a low and broken tone. 
And hurried note, the song went on. 
Still on the Clansman, fearfully. 
She fixed her apprehensive eye ; 
Then turn'd it on the Knight, and then 
Her look glanced wildly o'er the glen. 

XXV. 

" The toils are pitch'd, and the stakes are set, 

Ever sing merrily, merrily ; 
The bows they bend, and the knives they whet, 

Hunters live so cheerily. 

" It was a stag, a stag of ten,i 

Bearing its branches sturdily ; 
He came stately down the glen, 

Ever sing hardily, hardily. 

1 Having antlers with ten branches. 



126 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

" It was there he met with a wounded doe, 

She was bleeding deathfuUy ; 
She warn'd him of the toils below, 

Oh, so faithfully, faithfully ! 

" He had an eye, and he could heed, 

Ever sing warily, warily ; 
He had a foot, and he could speed — 

Hunters watch so narrowly." ^ 



XXVI. 

Fitz-James's mind was passion-toss'd, 
When Ellen's hints and fears were lost ; 
But Murdoch's shout suspicion -wrought, 
And Blanche's song conviction brought. — 
Not like a stag that spies the snare. 
But lion of the hunt aware, 
He waved at once his blade on high, 
" Disclose thy treachery, or die ! " 
Forth at full speed the Clansman flew. 
But in his race his bow he drew. 
The shaft just grazed Fitz-James's crest. 
And thrill'd in Blanche's faded breast. — 
Murdoch of Alpine I prove thy speed. 
For ne'er had Alpine's son such need ! 
With heart of fire, and foot of wind, 
The fierce avenger is behind ! 
Fate judges of the rapid strife — 
The forfeit - death — the prize is life ! 
Thy kindred ambush lies before. 
Close couch'd upon the heathery moor ; 

1 The hunters are Clan-Alpine's men; the stag of ten is Fitz-James; the 
wounded doe is herself!" — Taylor. 2 Penalty. 



I V.J THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 1 27 

Them couldst thou reach ! — it may not be — 

Thine ambush'd kin thou ne'er shalt see, 

The fiery Saxon gains on thee ! 

— Resistless speeds the deadly thrust, 

As lightning strikes the pine to dust ; 

With foot and hand Fitz- James must strain, 

Ere he can win his blade again. 

Bent o'er the fall'n, with falcon eye, 

He grimly smiled to see him die ; 

Then slower wended back his way, 

Where the poor maiden bleeding lay. 

XXVII. 

She sate beneath the birchen tree, 

Her elbow resting on her knee ; 

She had withdrawn the fatal shaft. 

And gazed on it, and feebly laugh'd ; 

Her wreath of broom and feathers gray, 

Daggled 1 with blood, beside her lay. 

The Knight to stanch the life-stream tried, — 

" Stranger, it is in vain!" she cried. 

*' This hour of death has given me more 

Of reason's power than years before ; 

For, as these ebbing veins decay. 

My frenzied visions fade away. 

A helpless injured wretch I die, 

And something tells me in thine eye, 

That thou wert mine avenger born. — 

Seest thou this tress ? — Oh ! still I've worn 

This little tress of yellow hair, 

Through danger, frenzy, and despair! 

It once was bright and clear as thine, 

But blood and tears have dimm'd its shine. 

1 Wet. 



128 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

I will not tell thee when 'twas shred, 

Nor from what guiltless victim's head — 

My brain would turn ! — but it shall wave 

Like plumage on thy helmet brave, 

Till sun and wind shall bleach the stain, 

And thou wilt bring it me again. — 

I waver still. — O God ! more bright 

Let reason beam her parting light ! — 

Oh! by thy knighthood's honor'd sign. 

And for thy life preserved by mine, 

When thou shalt see a darksome man, 

Who boasts him Chief of Alpine's Clan, 

With tartans broad, and shadowy plume, 

And hand of blood, and brow of gloom, 

Be thy heart bold, thy weapon strong. 

And wreak ^ poor Blanche of Devan's wrong ! 

They watch for thee by pass and fell . . . 

Avoid the path . . . O God ! . . . farewell." 

XXVIII. 

A kindly heart had brave Fitz -James ; 

Fast pour'd his eyes at pity's claims ; 

And now with mingled grief and ire, 

He saw the murder'd maid expire. 

" God, in my need, be my relief, 

As I wreak this on yonder Chief ! " 

A lock from Blanche's tresses fair 

He blended with her bridegroom's hair; 

The mingled braid in blood he dyed, 

And placed it on his bonnet-side : 

" By Him whose word is truth ! I swear, 

No other favor will I wear, 

Till this sad token I imbrue 

1 Avenge. 



IV.] THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 1 29 

In the best blood of Roderick Dhu, 

— But hark ! what means yon faint halloo ? 

The chase is up, — but they shall know, 

The stag at bay's a dangerous foe." 

Barr'd from the known but guarded way, 

Through copse and clifk Fitz-James must stray, 

And oft must change his desperate track, 

By stream and precipice turn'd back. 

Heartless, fatigued, and faint, at length. 

From lack of food and loss of strength, 

He couch'd him in a thicket hoar, 

And thought his toils and perils o'er : — 

'*Of all my rash adventures past, 

This frantic feat must prove the last ! 

Who e'er so mad but might have guess'd, 

That all this Highland hornef s nest 

Would muster up in swarms so soon 

As e'er they heard of bands 1 at Doune ? 

Like bloodhounds now they search me out, — 

Hark, to the whistle and the shout ! — 

If farther through the wilds I go, 

I only fall upon the foe : 

I'll couch me here till evening gray. 

Then darkling try my dangerous way.'* 

XXIX, 

The shades of eve come slowly down. 
The woods are wrapt in deeper brown, 
The owl awakens from her dell. 
The fox is heard upon the fell ; 
Enough remains of ghmmering light 
To guide the wanderer's steps aright, 
Yet not enough from far to shftw 

1 Troops. 



130 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

His figure to the watchful foe. 

With cautious step, and ear awake. 

He climbs the crag and threads the brake ; 

And not the summer solstice,^ there. 

Tempered the midnight mountain air, 

But every breeze, that swept the wold, 

Benumb'd his drenched limbs with cold. 

In dread, in danger, and alone, 

Famish'd and chill'd, through ways unknown, 

Tangled and steep, he journey'd on ; 

Till, as a rock's huge point he turn'd, 

A watch fire close before him burn'd. 

XXX. 

Beside its embers red and clear, 

Bask'd, in his plaid, a mountaineer; 

And up he sprung with sword in hand, — 

"Thy name and purpose ? Saxon, stand ! " — 

** A stranger." — " What dost thou require ? " — 

" Rest and a guide, and food and fire. 

My life's beset, my path is lost. 

The gale has chill'd my limbs with frost." — 

"Art thou a friend to Roderick ? " — " No." — 

" Thou darest not call thyself a foe ? " — 

" I dare ! to him and all the band 

He brings to aid his murderous hand." — 

"Bold words ! — but, though the beast of game 

The privilege of chase may claim, 

Though space and law the stag we lend, 

Ere hound we slip,^ or bow we bend, 

Who ever reck'd, where, how, or when. 

The prowling fox was trapp'd or slain ? 

Thus treachen^us scouts, — yet sure they lie, 

1 Midsummer heat. 2 Loose from the Icash. 



IV.] THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 131 

Who say thou earnest a secret spy ! " — 

"They do, by Heaven ! — Come Roderick Dhu, 

And of his clan the boldest two, 

And let me but till morning rest, 

I write the falsehood on their crest." — 

" If by the blaze I mark aright, 

Thou bear'st the belt and spur of Knight." — 

" Then by these tokens mayest thou know 

Each proud oppressor's mortal foe." — 

" Enough, enough ; — sit down, and share 

A soldier's couch, a soldier's fare." 

XXXI. 

He gave him of his Highland cheer, 
The harden'd flesh of mountain deer ; 
Dry fuel on the fire he laid. 
And bade the Saxon share his plaid. 
He tended him like welcome guest, 
Then thus his farther speech address'd : — 
" Stranger, I am to Roderick Dhu 
A clansman bom, a kinsman true ; 
Each word against his honor spoke, 
Demands of me avenging stroke ; 
Yet more, upon thy fate, 'tis said, 
A mighty augury ^ is laid. 
It rests with me to wind my horn, — 
Thou art with numbers overborne ; 
It rests with me, here, brand to brand, 
Worn as thou art, to bid thee stand : 
But, not for clan, nor kindred's cause, 
Will I depart from honor's laws ; 
To assail a wearied man were shame, 
And stranger is a holy name ; 

1 See Stanza vi. p. 109. 



132 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

Guidance and rest, and food and fire, 

In vain he never must require. 

Then rest thee here till dawn of day ; 

Myself will guide thee on the way, 

O'er stock and stone, through watch and ward, 

Till past Clan-Alpine's utmost guard, 

As far as Coilantogle's ford ; 

From thence thy warrant ^ is thy sword." — 

*' I take thy courtesy, by Heaven, 

As freely as 'tis nobly given ! " — 

" Well, rest thee ; for the bittern's cry 

Sings us the lake's wild lullaby." 

With that he shook the gather'd heath. 

And spread his plaid upon the wreath ; 

And the brave foemen, side by side. 

Lay peaceful down, like brothers tried. 

And slept until the dawning beam 

Purpled the mountain and the stream. 



CANTO FIFTH. 

THE COMBAT. 
I. 



FAIR as the earliest beam of eastern light, 
When first, by the bewilder'd pilgrim spied, 
It smiles upon the dreary brow of night, 

And silvers o'er the torrent's foaming tide. 
And hghts the fearful path on mountain side ; — 

1 Safeguard. 



v.] THE LADY OF THE LAKE. I33 

Fair as that beam, although the fairest far, 
Giving to horror grace, to danger pride, 

Shine martial Faith, and Courtesy's bright star. 
Through all the wreckful storms that cloud the brow of War. 



II. 

That early beam, so fair and sheen, 
Was twinkling through the hazel screen, 
When, rousing at its glimmer red. 
The warriors left their lowly bed, 
Look'd out upon the dappled sky, 
Mutter'd their soldier matins by. 
And then awaked their fire, to steal,i 
As short and rude, their soldier meal. 
That o'er, the Gael around him threw 
His graceful plaid of varied hue. 
And, true to promise, led the way, 
By thicket green and mountain gray. 
A wildering path ! — they winded now 
Along the precipice's brow. 
Commanding the rich scenes beneath. 
The windings of the Forth and Teith, 
And all the vales beneath that lie, 
Till Stirling's turrets melt in sky ; 
Then, sunk in copse, their farthest glance 
Gain'd not the length of horseman's lance. 
'Twas oft so steep, the foot was fain 
Assistance from the hand to gain ; 
So tangled oft, that, bursting through, 
Each hawthorn shed her showers of dew,- 
That diamond dew, so pure and clear. 
It rivals all but Beauty's tear! 

1 Eat hastily. 



134 -S-ZA' WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

III. 

At length they came where, stern and steep, 

The hill sinks down upon the deep. 

Here Vennachar in silver flows, 

There, ridge on ridge, Benledi rose ; 

Ever the hollow path twined on. 

Beneath steep bank and threatening stone ; 

An hundred men might hold the post 

With hardihood against a host. 

The rugged mountain's scanty cloak 

Was dwarfish shrubs of birch and oak, 

With shingles ^ bare, and cliffs between, 

And patches bright of bracken green. 

And heather black, that waved so high. 

It held the copse in rivalry. 

But where the lake slept deep and still. 

Dank 2 osiers fringed the swamp and hill ; 

And oft both path and hill were torn. 

Where wintry torrent down had borne, 

And heap'd upon the cumber'd land 

Its wreck of gravel, rocks, and sand. 

So toilsome was the road to trace. 

The guide, abating of his pace, 

Led slowly through the pass's jaws. 

And ask'd Fitz-James, by what strange cause 

He sought these wilds, traversed by few, 

Without a pass from Roderick Dhu. 

IV. 

" Brave Gael, my pass in danger tried. 
Hangs in my belt, and by my side ; 
Yet, sooth to tell," the Saxon said, 
'' I dreamt not now to claim its aid. 

1 Pebbles. 2 Moist. 



V.J THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 135 

When here, but three days since, I came, 

Bewilder'd in pm-suit of game, 

All seem'd as peaceful and as still 

As the mist slumbering on yon hill; 

Thy dangerous Chief was then afar. 

Nor soon expected back from war. 

Thus said, at least, my mountain guide, 

Though deep, perchance, the villain lied." — 

'* Yet why a second venture try ? " — 

" A warrior thou, and ask me why ! — 

Moves our free course by such fix'd cause 

As gives the poor mechanic laws ? 

Enough, I sought to drive away 

The lazy hours of peaceful day ; 

Slight cause will then suffice to guide 

A Knight's free footsteps far and wide, — 

A falcon flown, a greyhound stray'd, 

The merry glance of mountain maid : 

Or, if a path be dangerous known. 

The danger's self is lure alone." — 

v. 

" Thy secret keep, I urge thee not ; — 
Yet, ere again ye sought this spot. 
Say, heard ye naught of Lowland war. 
Against Clan- Alpine, raised by Mar ? '* 
— " No, by my word ; — of bands prepared 
To guard King Jameses sports I heard ; 
Nor doubt I aught, but, when they hear 
This muster of the mountaineer, 
Their pennons will abroad be flung. 
Which else in Doune had peaceful hung." — 
" Free be they flung! — for we were loth 
Their silken folds should feast the moth. 
Free be they flung ! — as free shall wave 



136 5/A' W ALTER SCOTT, [canto 

Clan- Alpine's pine in banner brave. 

But, Stranger, peaceful since you came, 

Bewilder'd in the mountain game, 

Whence the bold boast by which you show ^ 

Vich-Alpine*s vow'd and mortal foe ? " — 

*' Warrior, but yester-morn, I knew 

Naught of thy Chieftain, Roderick Dhu, 

Save as an outlawed desperate man. 

The chief of a rebellious clan. 

Who, in the Regent's ^ court and sight, 

With ruffian dagger stabb'd a knight : 

Yet this alone might from his part 

Sever each true and loyal heart.'* 

VI. 

Wrothful at such arraignment foul. 
Dark lower'd the clansman's sable scowl. 
A space he paused, then sternly said, 
"And heardst thou why he drew his blade? 
Heardst thou, that shameful word and blow 
Brought Roderick's vengeance on his foe ? 
What reck'd the Chieftain if he stood 
On Highland heath, or Holy-Rood ? 
He rights such wrong where it is given. 
If it were in the court of heaven.'* — 
•* Still was it outrage ; — yet, *tis true, 
Not then claim'd sovereignty his due ; 
While Albany, with feeble hand, 
Held borrow'd truncheon of command. 
The young King, mew'd ^ in Stirhng tower, 
Was stranger to respect and power.* 

1 Declare yourself to be. 

2 Duke of Albany (see Introduction, p. 12, and Stanza VI.). 

3 Imprisoned. 

4 That period of Scottish history from the battle of Flodden to the major- 
ity of James V. was full of disorder and violence. 



v.] THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 137 

But then, thy Chieftain's robber hfe ! — 
AVinning mean prey by causeless strife, 
Wrenching from ruin'd Lowland swain 
His herds and harvest rear'd in vain. — 
Methinks a soul, like thine, should scorn 
The spoils from such foul foray borne." 

VII. 

The Gael beheld him grim the while, 
And answer'd with disdainful smile, — 
*' Saxon, from yonder mountain high, 
I mark'd thee send delighted eye, 
Far to the south and east, where lay, 
Extended in succession gay, 
Deep waving fields and pastures green, 
With gende slopes and groves between: — 
These fertile plains, that soften'd vale, 
Were once the birthright of the Gael ; 
The stranger came with iron hand, 
And from our fathers reft ^ the land. 
Where dwell we now? See, rudely swell 
Crag over crag, and fell o'er fell. 
Ask we this savage hill we tread, 
For fatten'd steer or household bread ; 
Ask we for flocks these shingles dry, — 
And well the mountain might reply, 
* To you, as to your sires of yore, 
Belong the target and claymore ! 
I give you shelter in my breast, 
Your own good blades must win the rest.* 
Pent in this fortress of the north, 
Thinkst thou we will not sally forth, 
To spoil the spoiler as we may, 
And from the robber rend the prey? 

1 Robbed. 



138 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

Ay, by my soul ! — While on yon plain 

The Saxon rears one shock of grain ; 

While, of ten thousand herds, there strays 

But one along yon river's maze, — 

The Gael, of plain and river heir. 

Shall, with strong hand, redeem his share. 

Where live the mountain Chiefs who hold. 

That plundering Lowland field and fold 

Is aught but retribution true? 

Seek other cause 'gainst Roderick Dhu." — 

VIII. 

Answer'd Fitz-James, — "And, if I sought, 

Thinkst thou no other could be brought? 

What deem ye of my path waylaid ? 

My life given o'er to ambuscade ? " — 

"As of a meed to rashness due : 

Hadst thou sent warning fair and true, — 

I seek my hound, or falcon stray'd, 

I seek, good faith, 1 a Highland maid, — 

Free hadst thou been to come and go ; 

But secret path marks secret foe. 

Nor yet, for this, even as a spy, 

Hadst thou, unheard, been doom'd to die, 

Save to fulfill an augury." — 

" Well, let it pass ; nor will I now 

Fresh cause of enmity avow, 

To chafe thy mood and cloud thy brow. 

Enough, I am by promise tied 

To match me with this man of pride : 

Twice have I sought Clan-Alpine's glen 

In peace ; but when I come agen, 

I come with banner, brand, and bow, 

As leader seeks his mortal foe. 

1 " Good faith," i.e., in good faith. 



v.] THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 139 

For lovelorn swain, in lady's bower, 

Ne'er panted for the appointed hour, 

As I, until before me stand 

This rebel Chieftain and his band ! " — 

IX. 

** Have, then, thy wish ! " — He whistled shrill, 

And he was answer'd from the hill ; 

Wild as the scream of the curlew, 

From crag to crag the signal flew. 

Instant, through copse and heath, arose 

Bonnets and spears and bended bows ; 

On right, on left, above, below, 

Sprung up at once the lurking foe ; 

From shingles gray their lances start. 

The bracken bush sends forth the dart, 

The rushes and the willow wand 

Are bristling into ax and brand, 

And every tuft of broom gives life 

To plaided warrior arm'd for strife. 

That whistle garrison'd the glen 

At once with full five hundred men, 

As if the yawning hill to heaven 

A subterranean host had given. 

Watching their leader's beck and will. 

All silent there they stood, and still. 

Like the loose crags, whose threatening mass 

Lay tottering o'er the hollow pass, 

As if an infant's touch could urge 

Their headlong passage down the verge. 

With step and weapon forward flung, 

Upon the mountain side they hung. 

The Mountaineer cast glance of pride 

Along Benledi's living side, 

Then fix'd his eye and sable brow 



HO SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

Full on Fitz-James — *' How say'st thou now? 
These are Clan-Alpine's warriors true ; 
And, Saxon, — I am Roderick Dhu!" 



X. 

Fitz-James was brave : — Though to his heart 

The lifeblood thrill'd with sudden start, 

He mann'd himself with dauntless air, 

Return'd the Chief his haughty stare, 

His back against a rock he bore, 

And firmly placed his foot before : — 

*' Come one, come all ! this rock shall fly 

From its firm base as soon as I." 

Sir Roderick mark'd — and in his eyes 

Respect was mingled with surprise, 

And the stern joy which warriors feel 

In foemen worthy of their steel. 

Short space he stood — then waved his hand : 

Down sunk the disappearing band ; 

Each warrior vanish'd where he stood, 

In broom or bracken, heath or wood ; 

Sunk brand and spear and bended bow, 

In osiers pale and copses low ; 

It seem'd as if their mother Earth 

Had swallowed up her warlike birth. 

The wind's last breath had toss'd in air 

Pennon, and plaid, and plumage fair, — 

The next but swept a lone hillside. 

Where heath and fern were waving wide : 

The sun's last glance was glinted i back. 

From spear and glaive, from targe and jack, — 

The next, all unreflected, shone 

On bracken green, and cold gray stone. 

1 Flashed. 



v.] THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 141 

XI. 

Fitz-James look'd round — yet scarce believed 

The witness that his sight received ; 

Such apparition well might seem 

Delusion of a dreadful dream. 

Sir Roderick in suspense he eyed, 

And to his look the Chief replied, 

" Fear naught — nay, that I need not say — 

But — doubt not aught from mine array. 

Thou art my guest ; — I pledged my word 

As far as Coilantogle ford : 

Nor would I call a clansman's brand 

For aid against one valiant hand, 

Though on our strife lay every vale 

Rent by the Saxon from the Gael. 

So move we on ; — I only meant 

To show the reed on which you leant, 
Deeming this path you might pursue 
Without a pass from Roderick Dhu." 
They mov'd-: — I said Fitz-James was brave, 
As ever knight that belted glaive ; 
Yet dare not say, that now his blood 
Kept on its wont and temper'd flood,i 
As, following Roderick's stride, he drew 
That seeming lonesome pathway through, 
Which yet, by fearful proof, was rife 
With lances, that, to take his life, 
Waited but signal from a guide 
So late dishonor'd and defied. 
Ever, by stealth, his eye sought round 
The vanish'd guardians of the ground, 
And still, from copse and heather deep. 
Fancy saw spear and broadsword peep, 

1 Flow. 



142 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

And in the plover's shrilly strain, 
The signal-whistle heard again. 
Nor breathed he free till far behind 
The pass was left ; for then they wind 
Along a wide and level green, 
Where neither tree nor tuft was seen, 
Nor rush nor bush of broom was near, 
To hide a bonnet or a spear. 

XII. 

The Chief in silence strode before, 

And reach'd that torrent's sounding shore, 

Which, daughter of three mighty lakes,^ 

From Vennachar in silver breaks, 

Sweeps through the plain, and ceaseless mines 

On Bochastle the moldering lines, 

Where Rome, the Empress of the world, 

Of yore her eagle ^ wings unfurl'd. 

And here his course the Chieftain stayed, 

Threw down his target and his plaid, 

And to the Lowland warrior said, — 

" Bold Saxon! to his promise just, 

Vich-Alpine has discharged his trust. 

This murderous Chief, this ruthless man, 

This head of a rebellious clan, 

Hath led thee safe, through watch and ward, 

Far past Clan-Alpine's outmost guard. 

Now, man to man, and steel to steel, 

A Chieftain's vengeance thou shalt feel. 

See here, all vantageless ^ I stand, 

1 Katrine, Achray, and Vennachar. 

2 The eagle, with wings displayed and a thunderbolt in one of its talons, 
was the ensign of the Roman legions. Ancient earthworks near Bochastle 
are thought to date back to the Roman occupation of Britain. 

3 Without advantage. 



v.] THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 143 

Arm'd, like thyself, with single brand : 

For this is Coilantogle ford, 

And thou must keep thee with thy sword." 

XIII. 

The Saxon paused : — "I ne'er delay'd 
When foeman bade me draw my blade ; 
Nay, more, brave Chief, I vow'd thy death : 
Yet sure thy fair and generous faith. 
And my deep debt for hfe preserv'd, 
A better meed have well deserv'd : 
Can naught but blood our feud atone? 
Are there no means ? " — " No, Stranger, none ! 
And hear, — to fire thy flagging zeal, — 
The Saxon cause rests on thy steel ; 
For thus spoke Fate, by prophet bred 
Between the living and the dead : 
* Who spills the foremost foeman's life, 
His party conquers in the strife.' " — 
" Then, by my word," the Saxon said, 
" The riddle is already read. 
Seek yonder brake beneath the cliff, — 
There lies Red Murdoch, stark and stiff. 
Thus Fate hath solved her prophecy, 
Then yield to Fate, and not to me. 
To James, at Stirling, let us go, 
■ When, if thou wilt be still his foe. 
Or if the King shall not agree 
To grant thee grace and favor free,^ 
I plight mine honor, oath, and word. 
That, to thy native strengths 2 restored, 
With each advantage shalt thou stand. 
That aids thee now to guard thy land." 

1 Complete. 2 Strongholds. 



144 S/J^ WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

XIV. 

Dark lightning flash'd from Roderick's eye — 

** Soars thy presumption, then, so high, 

Because a wretched kern ye slew, 

Homage to name to Roderick Dhu ? 

He yields not, he, to man nor Fate ! 

Thou add'st but fuel to my hate : — 

My clansman's blood demands revenge. 

Not yet prepared? — By Heaven, I change 

My thought, and hold thy valor light 

As that of some vain carpet knight, 

Who ill deserved my courteous care, 

And whose best boast is but to wear 

A braid of his fair lady's hair." — 

" I thank thee, Roderick, for the word ! 

It nerves my heart, it steels my sword ; 

For I have sworn this braid to stain 

In the best blood that warms thy vein. 

Now, truce, farewell ! and, ruth, begone ! — 

Yet think not that by thee alone. 

Proud Chief ! can courtesy be shown ; 

Though not from copse, or heath, or cairn, 

Start at my whistle clansmen stern, 

Of this small horn one feeble blast 

Would fearful odds against thee cast. 

But fear not — doubt not — which thou wilt — 

We try this quarrel hilt to hilt." — 

Then each at once his falchion drew. 

Each on the ground his scabbard threw, 

Each look'd to sun, and stream, and plain, 

As what they ne'er might see again ; 

Then foot, and point, and eye opposed. 

In dubious strife they darkly closed. 



v.] THE LADY OF THE LAJCE, 

XV. 

Ill fared it then with Roderick Dhu, 
That on the field his targe he threw, 
Whose brazen studs and tough bull hide 
Had death so often dash'd aside ; 
For, train'd abroad i his arms to wield, 
Fitz-James's blade was sword and shield. 
He practiced every pass and ward. 
To thrust, to strike, to feint, to guard ; 
While less expert, though stronger far, 
The Gael maintain'd unequal war. 
Three times in closing strife they stood, 
And thrice the Saxon blade drank blood ; 
No stinted draught, no scanty tide, 
The gushing flood the tartans dyed. 
Fierce Roderick felt the fatal drain. 
And shower'd his blows like wintry rain ; 
And, as fimi rock, or castle roof. 
Against the winter shower is proof. 
The foe, invulnerable still, 
Foil'd his wild rage by steady skill ; 
Till, at advantage ta'en, his brand 
Forced Roderick's weapon from his hand, 
And backward borne upon the lea. 
Brought the proud Chieftain to his knee. 

XVI. 

" Now, yield thee, or by Him who made 
Tlie world, thy heart's blood dyes my blade ! 
**Thy threats, thy mercy, I defy! 
Let recreant yield, who fears to die." 
— Like adder darting from his coil, 
Like wolf that dashes through the toil, 



145 



1 In France. 



ID 



146 SIR WALTER SC0T7\ [canto 

Like mountain cat who guards her young, 
Full at Fitz- James's throat he sprung ; 
Received^ but reck'd not of a wound, 
And locked his arms his foeman round. — 
Now, gallant Saxon, hold thine own ! 
No maiden's hand is round thee thrown ! 
That desperate grasp thy frame might feel, 
Through bars of brass and triple steel I — 
They tug, they strain! down, down they go, 
The Gael above, Fitz-James below. 
The Chieftain's gripe his throat compressed, 
His knee was planted in his breast ; 
His clotted locks he backward threw. 
Across his brow his hand he drew. 
From blood and mist to clear his sight. 
Then gleam'd aloft his dagger bright 1 — 
— But hate and fury ill supplied 
The stream of life's exhausted tide. 
And all too late the advantage came. 
To turn the odds of deadly game ; 
For, while the dagger gleam'd on high, 
ReeFd soul and sense, reel'd brain and eye. 
Down came the blow^ but in the heath 
The erring blade found bloodless, slieath. 
The struggling foe may now unclasp 
The fainting Chief's relaxing grasp ; 
Unwounded from the dreadful close. 
But breathless all, Fitz-James. arose. 

XVI T. 

He faltered thanks to Heaven for life. 
Redeemed, unhoped, from desperate strife ; 
Next on his foe his look he cast. 
Whose every gasp appear''d his last ; 
In Roderick's, gore he dipt the braid, — 



V-] THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 147 

" Poor Blanche ! thy wrongs are clearly paid : 

Yet with thy foe must die, or live, 

The praise that Faith and Valor give." 

With that he blew a bugle note, 

Undid the collar from his throat, 

Unbonneted, and by the wave 

Sate down his brow and hands to lave. 

Then faint afar are heard the feet 

Of rushing steeds in gallop fleet ; 

The sounds increase, and now are seen 

Four mounted squires in Lincoln green ; 

Two who bear lance, and two who lead, 

By loosen'd rein, a saddled steed ; 

Each onward held his headlong course, 

And by Fitz-James rein'd up his horse, — 

With wonder view'd the bloody spot — 

" Exclaim not, gallants ! question not. — 

You, Herbert and Luffness, alight. 

And bind the wounds of yonder knight ; 

Let the gray palfrey bear his weight, 

We destined for a fairer freight. 

And bring him on to Stirling straight ; 

I will before at better speed. 

To seek fresh horse and fitting weed. 

The sun rides high ; — I must be boune, 

To see the archer game at noon ; 

But lightly Bayard clears the lea. — 

De Vaux and Herries, follow me. 

XVIII. 

"Stand, Bayard, stand !" — the steed obey'd, 

With arching neck and bended head, 

And glancing eye and quivering ear. 

As if he loved his lord to hear. 

No foot Fitz-James in stirrup stayed, 



148 S/J^: WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

No grasp upon the saddle laid, 

But wreath'd his left hand in the mane, 

And lightly bounded from the plain, 

Turn'd on the horse his armed heel, 

And stirr'd his courage with the steel. ^ 

Bounded the fiery steed in air, 

The rider sate erect and fair. 

Then like a bolt from steel crossbow 

Forth launch'd, along the plain they go. 

They dash'd that rapid torrent through, 

And up Carhonie's 2 hill they flew ; 

Still at the gallop prick'd^ the Knight, 

His merry-men follow'd as they might. 

Along thy banks, swift Teith ! they ride. 

And in the race they mock thy tide ; 

Torry and Lendrick now are past. 

And Deanstown hes behind them cast ; 

They rise, the banner'd towers of Doune, 

They sink in distant woodland soon ; 

Blair- Drummond sees the hoofs strike fire. 

They sweep like breeze through Ochtertyre ; 

They mark just glance and disappear 

The lofty brow of ancient Kier ; 

They bathe their coursers' sweltering sides, 

Dark Forth! amid thy sluggish tides, 

And on the opposing shore take ground, 

With plash, with scramble, and with bound. 

Eight-hand they leave thy cliffs, Craig-Forth ! 

And soon the bulwark of the North, 

Gray Stirling, with her towers and town, 

Upon their fleet career look'd down. 

1 Spur. 2 About a mile from the mouth of Lake Vennachar. 

3 Spurred. 



v.] 7 HE LADY OF THE LAKE. 149 

XIX. 

As up the flinty path they strain'd, 

Sudden his steed the leader rein'd ; 

A signal to his squire he flung, 

Who instant to his stirrup sprung : — 

" Seest thou, De Vaux, yon woodsman gray, 

Who townward holds the rocky way, 

Of stature tall and poor array ? 

Mark'st thou the firm, yet active stride, 

With which he scales the mountain side? 

Know'st thou from whence he comes, or whom ? " — 

" No, by my word ; — a burly groom 

He seems, who in the field or chase 

A baron's train would nobly grace." — 

"Out, out, De Vaux! can fear supply. 

And jealousy, no sharper eye ? 

Afar, ere to the hill he drew. 

That stately form and step I knew ; 

Like form in Scotland is not seen. 

Treads not such step on Scottish green. 

'Tis James of Douglas, by St. Serle ! 

The uncle of the banish'd Earl. 

Away, away, to court, to show 

The near approach of dreaded foe : 

The King must stand upon his guard ; 

Douglas and he must meet prepared." 

Then right-hand wheel'd their steeds, and straight 

They won the Castle's postern gate. 



XX. 



The Douglas, who had bent his way 
From Cambus-kenneth's Abbey gray. 
Now, as he climb'd the rocky shelf. 
Held sad communion with himself : — 



150 SIR SALTER SCOTT. [canto 

" Yes ! all is true my fears could frame ; 

A prisoner lies the noble Graeme, 

And fiery Roderick soon will feel 

The vengeance of the royal steel. 

I, only I, can ward their fate, — 

God grant the ransom come not late ! 

The Abbess hath her promise given. 

My child shall be the bride of Heaven ;i — 

— Be pardon' d one repining tear ! 

P'or He, who gave her, knows how dear, 
How excellent ! but that is by. 
And now my business is — to die. 

— Ye towers ! within whose circuit dread 
A Douglas 2 by his sovereign bled ; 

And thou, O sad and fatal mound \^ 
That oft hast heard the death-ax sound, 
As on the noblest of the land 
Fell the stem headsman's bloody hand, — 
The dungeon, block, and nameless tomb 
Prepare — for Douglas seeks his doom ! — 

— But hark ! what blithe and jolly peal 
Makes the Franciscan * steeple reel ? 
And see! upon the crowded street. 

In motley groups what maskers meet ! 
Banner and pageant, pipe and drum. 
And merry morris dancers ^ come. 
I guess, by all this quaint array, 

1 " Bride of Heaven," i.e., a nun. 

2 William, eighth earl of Douglas, was stabbed by James II. while in 
Stirling Castle, and under royal safe-conduct. 

3 " Heading Hill," where executions took place. 

4 A church of the Franciscans or Gray Friars was built near the castle, in 
1494, by James IV. 

5 The morris dance was of Moorish origin, and brought from Spain to 
England, where it was combined with the national Mayday games. The dress 
of the dancers was adorned with party-colored ribbons, and little bells were 



v.] THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 15^ 

The burghers hold their sports to-day,^ 

James will be there ; he loves such show, 

Where the good yeoman bends his bow, 

And the tough wrestler foils his foe, 

As well as where, in proud career, 

The high-born tilter shivers spear, 

I'll follow to the Castle-park, 

And play my prize ; — King James shall mark, 

If age has tamed these sinews stark,^ 

Whose force so oft, in happier days. 

His boyish wonder loved to praise," 

XXI. 

The Castle gates were open flung. 

The quivering drawbridge rock'd and rung, 

And echo'd loud the flinty street 

Beneath the coursers' clattering feet, 

As slowly down the steep descent 

Fair Scotland's King and nobles went, 

While all along the crowded way 

Was jubilee and loud huzza. 

And ever James was bending low, 

To his white jennet's ^ saddlebow. 

Doffing his cap to city dame, 

Who smiled and blush'd for pride and shame. 

And well the simperer might be vain, — 

He chose the fairest of the train. 

Gravely he greets each city sire. 

Commends each pageant's quaint attire, 

Gives to the dancers thanks aloud, 

attached to their anklets, armlets, or girdles. The dancers often personated 
various fictitious characters. 

1 Every borough had its solemn play or festival, where archery, wrestlmg, 
hurling the bar, and other athletic exercises, were engaged in. 

2 Strong. ^ A small Spanish horse. 



152 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

And smiles and nods upon the crowd, 

Who rend the heavens with their acclaims, — 

" Long Hve the Commons' King,i King James ! " 

Behind the King throng'd peer and knight, 

And noble dame, and damsel bright. 

Whose fiery steeds ill brook'd the stay 

Of the steep street and crowded way. 

— But in the train you might discern 

Dark lowering brow, and visag© stern : 

There nobles mourn'd their pride restrained, 

And the mean burgher's joys disdain'd ; 

And chiefs, who, hostage for their clan, 

Were each from home a banish'd man. 

There thought upon their own gray tower, 

Their waving woods, their feudal power. 

And deem'd themselves a shameful part 

Of pageant which they cursed in heart. 

XXII. 

Now, in the Castle-park, drew out 
Their checker'd ^ bands the joyous rout. 
There morrisers, with bell at heel, 
And blade in hand, their mazes wheel ; 
But chief, beside the butts, there stand 
Bold Robin Hood ^ and all his band, — 
Friar Tuck * with quarterstaff and cowl. 
Old Scathlock^ with his surly scowl, 

1 Like Henry VIIL in England, and Louis XL in France, James V. had 
checked the lawless nobles, and favored the commons or burghers. 

2 In clothing of varied form and color. 

3 A renowned English outlaw and robber, supposed to have lived at the 
end of the twelfth and beginning of the thirteenth century, and to have fre- 
quented Sherwood Forest. Characters representing him and his followers 
were often introduced into the popular games. 

4 Follower of Robin Hood. 



] THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 153 

Maid Marian,! fair as ivory bone, 

Scarlet,! and Mutch, 1 and Little John ; ^ 

Their bugles challenge all that will, 

In archery to prove their skill. 

The Douglas bent a bow of might, — 

His first shaft centered in the white, 

And when in turn he shot again, 

His second split the first in twain. 

From the King's hand must Douglas take 

A silver dart,^ the archer's stake ; 

Fondly he watch'd, with watery eye, 

Some answering glance of sympathy, — 

No kind emotion made reply! 

Indifferent as to archer wight,^ 

The Monarch gave the arrow bright. 

XXIII. 

Now, clear the ring! for, hand to hand. 
The manly wrestlers take their stand. 
Two o'er the rest superior rose, 
And proud demanded mightier foes, 
Nor call'd in vain ; for Douglas came. 
— For hfe is Hugh of Larbert lame ; 
Scarce better John of Alloa's fare. 
Whom senseless home his comrades bear. 
Prize of the wrestling match, the King 
To Douglas gave a golden ring. 
While coldly glanced his eye of blue. 
As frozen drop of wintry dew. 
Douglas would speak, but in his breast 
His struggling soul his words suppress'd ; 
Indignant then he turn'd him where 

1 Follower of Robin Hood. 

2 The usual prize to the best shooter was a silver arrow. 

3 A simple, ordinary archer. 



54 -S-ZA^ WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

Their arms the brawny yeoman bare, 

To hurl the massive bar in air. 

When each his utmost strength had shown, 

The Douglas rent an earth-fast stone 

From its deep bed, then heaved it high. 

And sent the fragment through the sky, 

A rood beyond the farthest mark ; — 

And still in Stirling's royal park, 

The gray-haired sires, who know the past, 

To strangers point the Douglas-cast,^ 

And moralize on the decay 

Of Scottish strength in modern day. 

XXIV. 

The vale with loud applauses rang, 
The Ladies* Rock 2 sent back the clang. 
The King, with look unmoved, bestow'd 
A purse well fill'd with pieces broad. 
Indignant smiled the Douglas proud. 
And threw the gold among the crowd. 
Who now, with anxious wonder, scan, 
And sharper glance, the dark gray man ; 
Till whispers rose among the throng. 
That heart so free, and hand so strong. 
Must to the Douglas blood belong ; 
The old men mark'd, and shook the head, 
To see his hair with silver spread, 
And wink'd aside, and told each son 
Of feats upon the English done, 
Ere Douglas of the stalwart hand 
Was exiled from his native land. 
The women praised his stately form, 
Though wreck' d by many a winter's storm ; 

1 The throw made by Douglas. 

2 A point from which the ladies of the court viewed the games. 



THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 155 

The youth with awe and wonder saw 
His strength surpassing nature's law. 
Thus judged, as is their wont, the crowd, 
Till murmur rose to clamors loud. 
But not a glance from that proud ring 
Of peers who circled round the King, 
With Douglas held communion kind, 
Or call'd the banish'd man to mind ; 
No, not from those who, at the chase, 
Once held his side the honor'd place, 
Begirt ^ his board, and, in the field. 
Found safety underneath his shield ; 
For he, whom royal eyes disown. 
When was his form to courtiers known! 

XXV. 

The Monarch saw the gambols flag, 
And bade let loose a gallant stag. 
Whose pride, the holiday to crown, 
Two favorite greyhounds should pull down, 
That venison free, and Bordeaux wine, 
Might serve the archery to dine. 
But Lufra, — whom from Douglas' side 
Nor bribe nor threat could e'er divide, 
The fleetest hound in all the North, — 
Brave Lufra saw, and darted forth. 
She left the royal hounds midway, 
And dashing on the antler'd prey. 
Sunk her sharp muzzle in his flank. 
And deep the flowing lifeblood drank. 
The King's stout huntsman saw the sport 
By strange intruder broken short. 
Came up, and with his leash unbound, 
In anger struck the noble hound. 
1 Surrounded. 



156 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

— The Douglas had endured, that morn, 

The King's cold look, the nobles' scorn, 

And last, and worst to spirit proud, 

Had borne the pity of the crowd; 

But Lufra had been fondly bred. 

To share his board, to watch his bed. 

And oft would Ellen, Lufra's neck 

In maiden glee with garlands deck ; 

They were such playmates, that with name 

Of Lufra, Ellen's image came. 

His stifled wrath is brimming high. 

In darken'd brow and flashing eye ; 

As waves before the bark divide. 

The crowd gave way before his stride ; 

Needs but a buffet and no more. 

The groom lies senseless in his gore. 

Such blow no other hand could deal 

Though gauntleted in glove of steel. 

XXVI. 

Then clamor'd loud the royal train, 

And brandish'd swords and staves amain. 

But stern the baron's warning — " Back ! 

Back, oni your lives, ye menial pack! 

Beware the Douglas. — Yes! behold. 

King James ! The Douglas, doom'd of old, 

And vainly sought for near and far, 

A victim to atone the war, 

A willing victim, now attends. 

Nor craves thy grace but for his friends." — 

" Thus is my clemency repaid ? 

Presumptuous Lord ! " the Monarch said ; 

" Of thy mis-proud 2 ambitious clan, 

1 As you value. 2 Wrongly, mistakenly proud. 



v.] THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 157 

Thou, James of Bothwell, wert the man, 

The only man, in whom a foe 

My woman mercy would not know : 

But shall a Monarch's presence brook 

Injurious blow, and haughty look ? — 

What ho ! the Captain of our Guard ! 

Give the offender fitting ward. — 

Break off the sports ! " — for tumult rose, 

And yeomen 'gan to bend their bows, — 

" Break off the sports ! " he said, and frown'd, 

** And bid our horsemen clear the ground." 

XXVII. 

Then uproar wild and misarray 1 
Marr'd the fair form of festal day. 
The horsemen prick'd among the crowd, 
Repell'd by threats and insult loud ; 
To earth are borne the old and weak, 
The timorous fly, the women shriek ; 
With flint, with shaft, with staff, with bar, 
The hardier urge tumultuous war. 
At once round Douglas darkly sweep 
The royal spears in circle deep, 
And slowly scale the pathway steep ; 
While on the rear in thunder pour 
The rabble with disorder'd roar. 
With grief the noble Douglas saw 
The Commons rise against the law, 
And to the leading soldier said, — 
" Sir John of Hyndford ! 2 'twas my blade 
That knighthood on thy shoulder laid ; ^ 

1 Disorder. ' 2 A village on the Clyde. 

5 Knighthood was conferred hy a slight blow with the flat of a sword on 
the back of the kneeling candidate. 



158 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

For that good deed, permit me then 
A word with these misguided men. — 

XXVIII. 

** Hear, gentle friends! ere yet for me 

Ye break the bands of fealty. 

My life, my honor, and my cause, 

I tender free to Scotland's laws. 

Are these so weak as must require 

The aid of your misguided ire ? 

Or, if I suffer causeless wrong, 

Is then my selfish rage so strong, 

My sense of public weal so low, 

That, for mean vengeance on a foe, 

Those cords of love I should unbind. 

Which knit my country and my kind ? 

Oh, no! Believe, in yonder tower 

It will not soothe my captive hour, 

To know those spears our foes should dread, 

For me in kindred gore are red ; 

To know, in fruitless brawl begun 

For me, tHat mother wails her son ; 

For me, that widow's mate expires ; 

For me, that orphans weep their sires ; 

That patriots mourn insulted laws. 

And curse the Douglas for the cause. 

Oh, let your patience ward ^ such ill. 

And keep your right to love me still ! " 

XXIX. 

The crowd's wild fury sunk again 
In tears, as tempests melt in rain. 
With lifted hands and eyes, they pray'd 
For blessings on his generous head, 

1 Ward off. 



THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 159 

Who for his country felt alone, 

And prized her blood beyond his own. 

Old men, upon the verge of life, 

Bless'd him who stayed the civil strife ; 

And mothers held their babes on high, 

The self-devoted Chief to spy. 

Triumphant over wrongs and ire, 

To whom the prattlers owed a sire : 

Even the rough soldier's heart was moved ; 

As if behind some bier beloved. 

With trailing arms and drooping head, 

The Douglas up the hill he led, 

And at the Castle's battled verge, 

With sighs resigned his honor'd charge. 

XXX. 

The offended Monarch rode apart. 
With bitter thought and swelling heart. 
And would not now vouchsafe again 
Through Stirling streets to lead his train. — 
" O Lennox, who would wish to rule 
This changeling 1 crowd, this common fool? 
Hear'st thou," he said, " the loud acclaim 
With which they shout the Douglas name ? 
With like acclaim, the vulgar throat 
Strain'd for King James their morning note ; 
With like acclaim they hail'd the day 
When first I broke the Douglas* sway ; 
And like acclaim would Douglas greet. 
If he could hurl me from my seat. 
Who o*er the herd would wish to reign, 
Fantastic, fickle, fierce, and vain! 
Vain as the leaf upon the stream, 
And fickle as a changeful dream ; 
1 Fickle. 



i6o S//^ WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

Fantastic as a woman's mood, 
And fierce as Frenzy's fever'd blood, 
Thou many-headed monster thing, 
Oh, who would wish to be thy king! 

XXXI. 

" But soft ! what messenger of speed 

Spurs hitherward his panting steed? 

I guess his cognizance ^ afar — 

What from our cousin,^ John of Mar?" — 

" He prays, my liege, your sports keep bound 

Within the safe and guarded ground : 

For some foul purpose yet unknown, — 

Most sure for evil to the throne, — 

The outlaw'd Chieftain, Roderick Dhu, 

Has summon'd his rebellious crew ; 

'Tis said, in James of Bothwell's aid 

These loose banditti stand array'd. 

The Earl of Mar, this morn, from Doune, 

To break their muster march'd, and soon 

Your grace will hear of battle fought ; 

But earnestly the Earl besought. 

Till for such danger he provide, 

With scanty train you will not ride." 

XXXII. 

"Thou warn'st me I have done amiss, — 
I should have earlier look'd to this : 
I lost it in this bustling day. 
— Retrace with speed thy former way ; 
Spare not for spoiling of thy steed. 
The best of mine shall be thy meed. 

^ Crest ; livery. 

2 Monarchs frequently applied this epithet to their noblemen, even when 
no blood relationship existed. 



v.] THE LADY OF THE LAKE, l6i 

Say to our faithful Lord of Mar, 
We do forbid the intended war: 
Roderick, this morn, in single fight, 
Was made our prisoner by a knight ; 
And Douglas hath himself and cause 
Submitted to our kingdom's laws. 
The tidings of their leaders lost 
Will soon dissolve the mountain host, 
Nor would we that the vulgar feel, 
For their Chief's crimes, avenging steel. 
Bear Mar our message, Braco : fly ! " — 
He turn'd his steed, — " My Hege, I hie, — 
Yet, ere I cross this lily lawn, 
I fear the broadswords will be drawn," 
The turf the flying courser spurn'd. 
And to his towers the King return'd. 

XXXIII. 

Ill with King James's mood that day, 

Suited gay feast and minstrel lay ; 

Soon were dismiss'd the courtly throng, 

And soon cut short the festal song. 

Nor less upon the sadden'd town 

The evening sunk in sorrow down. 

The burghers spoke of civil jar. 

Of rumor'd feuds and mountain war. 

Of Moray, Mar, and Roderick Dhu, 

All up in arms: — the Douglas too. 

They mourn'd him pent within the hold, 

*' Where stout Earl William i was of old." — 

And there his word the speaker stayed. 

And finger on his lip he laid. 

Or pointed to his dagger blade. 



The Douglas who was stabbed by James 11. 



II 



1 62 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

But jaded horsemen, from the west. 
At evening to the Castle press'd ; 
And busy talkers- said they bore 
Tidings of fight on Katrine's shore ; 
At noon the deadly fray begun. 
And lasted till the set of sun. 
Thus giddy rumor shook the town, 
Till closed the Night her pennons brown. 



CANTO SIXTH, 

THE GUARD ROOM 



THE sun, awakening, through the smoky air 
Of the dark city casts a sullen glance, 
Rousing each caitiff ^ to his task of care, 

Of sinful man the sad inheritance ; 
Summoning revelers from the lagging dance. 

Scaring the prowling robber to his den ; 
Gilding on battled tower the warder's lance, 

And warning student pale to leave his pen, 
And yield his drowsy eyes to the kind nurse of men. 

» 

What various scenes, and, oh! what scenes of woe, 

Are witness'd by that red and struggling beam! 
The fever'd patient, from his pallet low, 

Through crowded hospital beholds its stream ; 
The ruin'd maiden trembles at its gleam. 

The debtor wakes to thought of gyve and jail. 
The lovelorn wretch starts from tormenting dream ; 

The wakeful mother, by the glimmering pale, 
Trims her sick infant's couch, and soothes his feeble wail. 

1 Wretched, unfortunate man. 



VI. 1 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 163 



II. 

At dawn the towers of Stirling rang 
With soldier step and weapon clang, 
While drums, with rolling note, foretell 
Relief to weary sentinel. 
Through narrow loop and casement barr'd, 
The sunbeams sought the Court of Guard, 
And, struggling with the smoky air, 
Deaden'd the torches' yellow glare. 
In comfortless alliance shone 
The lights through arch of blacken'd stone, 
And show'd wild shapes in garb of war, 
Faces deform'd with beard and scar, 
All haggard from the midnight watch, 
, And fever'd with the stern debauch ; 
For the oak table's massive board. 
Flooded with wine, with fragments stored, 
And beakers drain'd, and cups o'erthrown, 
Show'd in what sport the night had flown. 
Some, weary, snored on floor and bench ; 
Some labor'd still their thirst to quench ; 
Some, chill'd with watching, spread their hands 
O'er the huge chimney's dying brands, 
While round them, or beside them flung. 
At every step their harness ^ rung. 

III. 

These drew not for their fields the sword, 
Like tenants of a feudal lord, 
Nor own'd the patriarchal claim 
Of Chieftain in their leader's name ; 
Adventurers ^ they, from far who roved, 

1 Armor and other accouterments of war. 

2 James V. was the first to increase the army furnished by the nobles 
and their vassals by the addition of a small number of mercenaries. 



1 64 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

To live by battle which they loved. 

There the Italian's clouded face, 

The swarthy Spaniard's there you trace ; 

The mountain-loving Switzer ^ there 

More freely breathed in mountain air ; 

The Fleming 2 there despised the soil, 

That paid so ill the laborer's toil ; 

Their rolls show'd French and German name ; 

And merry England's exiles came, 

To share, with ill-conceal'd disdain, 

Of Scotland's pay the scanty gain. 

All brave in arms, well train'd to wield 

The heavy halberd, brand, and shield ; 

In camps Hcentious, wild, and bold ; 

In pillage fierce and uncontroU'd ; 

And now, by holytide ^ and feast, 

From rules of discipline released. 

IV. 

They held debate of bloody fray, 
Fought 'twixt Loch Katrine and Achray. 
Fierce was their speech, and, 'mid their words, 
Their hands oft grappled to their swords ; 
Nor sunk their tone to spare the ear 
Of wounded comrades groaning near, 
Whose mangled limbs, and bodies gored, 
Bore token of the mountain sword. 
Though, neighboring to the Court of Guard, 
Their prayers and feverish wails were heard ; 
Sad burden to the ruffian joke, 
And savage oath by fury spoke ! — 
At length up started John of Brent, 

1 A native of Switzerland. 

2 An inhabitant of Flanders, as Belgium was then called. 3 Holiday. 



VI.] THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 165 

A yeoman from the banks of Trent ; 

A stranger to respect or fear, 

In peace a chaser ^ of the deer, 

In host 2 a hardy mutineer, 

But still the boldest of the crew, 

When deed of danger was to do. 

He grieved, that day, their games cut short, 

And marr'd the dicer's brawling sport. 

And shouted loud, " Renew the bowl! 

And, while a merry catch I troll. 

Let each the buxom chorus bear. 

Like brethren of the brand and spear." 

V. 

SOLDIER'S SONG. 

Our vicar still preaches that Peter and Poule ^ 

Laid a swinging * long curse on the bonny brown bowl. 

That there's wrath and despair in the jolly black-jack,^ 

And the seven deadly sins in a flagon of sack ;^ 

Yet whoop, Barnaby ! off with thy liquor. 

Drink upsees out," and a fig for the vicar! 

Our vicar he calls it damnation to sip 

The ripe ruddy dew of a woman's dear lip. 

Says, that Beelzebub ^ lurks in her kerchief so sly. 

And Apollyon ^ shoots darts from her merry black eye ; 

Yet whoop, Jack! kiss Gillian the quicker. 

Till she bloom like a rose, and a fig for the vicar! 

Our vicar thus preaches — and why should he not? 
For the dues of his cure are the placket and pot ; ^ 

1 Poacher. 2 War. 3 Paul. * Severe. 

5 A leathern beer jug. 6 Spanish wine. 

7 " Upsees out," i.e., in the Dutch fashion, or deeply. 

8 Name for Satan. ^ " Placket and pot," i.e., women and wine. 



l66 S/J^ WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

And 'tis right of his office poor laymen to lurch, 
Who infringe the domains of our good Mother Church. 
Yet whoop, bully-boys! off with your hquor, 
Sweet Marjorie's the word, and a fig for the vicar! 

VI. 

The warder's challenge, heard without, 

Stayed in mid-roar the merry shout. 

A soldier to the portal went, — 

** Here is old Bertram, sirs, of Ghent ; 

And, — beat for jubilee the drum! — 

A maid and minstrel with him come." 

Bertram, a Fleming, gray and scarr'd. 

Was entering now the Court of Guard, 

A harper with him, and in plaid 

All muffled close, a mountain maid, 

Who backward shrunk to 'scape the view 

Of the loose scene and boisterous crew. 

" What news? " they roar'd. — " I only know, 

From noon till eve we fought with foe 

As wild and as untamable 

As the rude mountains where they dwell ; 

On both sides store of blood is lost. 

Nor much success can either boast." — 

** But whence thy captives, friend? such spoil 

As theirs must needs reward thy toil. 

Old dost thou wax, and wars grow sharp ; 

Thou now hast glee-maiden and harp! 

Get thee an ape, and trudge the land, 

The leader of a juggler band." — 

VII. 

" No, comrade ; — no such fortune mine. 
After the fight, these sought our line. 
That aged Harper and the girl, 



VI. 3 THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 167 

And, having audience of the Earl, 

Mar bade I should purvey them steed, 

And bring them hitherward with speed 

Forbear your mirth and rude alarm. 

For none shall do them shame or harm." — 

*' Hear ye his boast ? " cried John of Brent, 

Ever to strife and jangling bent ; 

*' Shall he strike doe beside our lodge, 

And yet the jealous niggard grudge 

To pay the forester his fee? 

I'll have my share, howe'er it be. 

Despite of Moray, Mar, or thee." 

Bertram his forward step withstood ; 

And, burning in his vengeful mood, 

Old Allan, though unfit for strife. 

Laid hand upon his dagger knife ; 

But Ellen boldly stepped between. 

And dropp'd at once the tartan screen : — 

So, from his morning cloud, appears 

The sun of May, through summer tears- 

The savage soldiery, amazed, 

As on descended angel gazed ; 

Even hardy Brent, abash'd and tamed, 

Stood half admiring, half ashamed 

VIII. 

Boldly she spoke, — ''Soldiers, attend! 
My father was the soldier's friend ; 
Cheer'd him in camps, in marches led, 
And with him in the battle bled. 
Not from the valiant, or the strong. 
Should exile's daughter suffer wTong." — 
Answer'd De Brent, most forward still 
In every feat or good or ill, — 
"' I shame me of the part I play'd ; 



68 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

And thou an outlaw's child, poor maid! 

An outlaw I by forest laws, 

And merry Needwood i knows the cause. 

Poor Rose, — if Rose be hving now," — 

He wiped his iron eye and brow, — 

" Must bear such age, I think, as thou. — 

Hear ye, my mates ; — I go to call 

The Captain of our watch to hall : 

There lies my halberd on the floor ; 

And he that steps my halberd o'er, 

To do the maid injurious part. 

My shaft shall quiver in his heart! — 

Beware loose speech, or jesting rough : 

Ye all know John de Brent. Enough.'* 

IX. 

Their Captain came, a gallant young, — 
Of Tullibardine's 2 house he sprung, — 
Nor wore he yet the spurs of knight ; 
Gay was his mien, his humor hght. 
And, though by courtesy controll'd. 
Forward his speech, his bearing bold. 
The high-bom maiden ill could brook 
The scanning of his curious look 
And dauntless eye ; — and yet, in sooth, 
Young Lewis was a generous youth ; 
But Ellen's lovely face and mien, 
111 suited to the garb and scene. 
Might lightly bear construction strange, 
And give loose fancy scope to range. 
" Welcome to Stirhng towers, fair maid! 
Come ye to seek a champion's aid, 

1 A royal forest in Staffordshire. 

2 Tullibardine was an old seat of the Hurrays in Perthshire. 



VI.] THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 169 

On palfrey white, with harper hoar, 

Like errant damosel 1 of yore? 

Does thy high quest 2 a knight require, 

Or may the venture suit a squire? " — 

Her dark eye flash'd ; — she paused and sigh'd, — 

'' Oh, what have I to do with pride! — 

Through scenes of sorrow, shame, and strife, 

A supphant for a father's hfe, 

I crave an audience of the King. 

Behold, to back my suit, a ring, 

The royal pledge of grateful claims, 

Given by the Monarch to Fitz-James." 

X. 

The signet ring young Lewis took, 
With deep respect and alter'd look ; 
And said, — " This ring- our duties own ; 
And pardon, if to worth unknown. 
In semblance mean, obscurely veil'd. 
Lady, in aught my folly fail'd. 
Soon as the day flings wide his gates, 
The King shall know what suitor waits. 
Please you, meanwhile, in fitting bower 
Repose you till his waking hour ; 
Female attendance shall obey 
Your hest, for service or array. 
Permit I marshal you the way." 
But, ere she followed, with the grace 
And open bounty of her race. 
She bade her slender purse be shared 
Among the soldiers of the guard. 

1 In the days of chivalry any oppressed " damosel" could obtain redress 
by applying to the court of the nearest king, where some knight became her 
champion. 

2 Undertaking. 



70 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

The rest with thanks their guerdon took ; 

Bat Brent, with shy and awkward look, 

On the reluctant maiden's hold 

Forced bluntly back the proffer'd gold ; 

'* Forgive a haughty Enghsh heart, 

And oh, forget its ruder part ! 

The vacant purse shall be my share, 

Which in my barret cap I'll bear, 

Perchance, in jeopardy of war, 

Where gayer crests may keep afar." 

With thanks — 'twas all she could — the maid 

His rugged courtesy repaid. 

XI. 

When Ellen forth with Lewis went, 
Allan made suit to John. of Brent : — 
" My lady safe, oh, let your grace 
Give me to see my master's face! 
His minstrel I, — to share his doom 
Bound from the cradle to the tomb. 
Tenth in descent, since first my sires 
Waked for his noble house their lyres, 
Nor one of all the race was known 
But prized its weal above their own. 
With the Chief's birth begins our care ; 
Our harp must soothe the infant heir, 
Teach the youth tales of fight, and grace 
His earliest feat of field or chase ; 
In peace, in war, our rank we keep, 
We cheer his board, we soothe his sleep, 
Nor leave him till we pour our verse — 
A doleful tribute! — o'er his hearse. 
Then let me share his captive lot ; 
It is my right — deny it not!" — 
" Little we reck," said John of Brent, 



VI.] THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 171 

** We Southern men, of long descent ; 
Nor wot we how a name — a word — 
Makes clansmen vassals to a lord : 
Yet kind my noble landlord's part, — 
God bless the house of Beaudesert! 
And, but I loved to drive the deer, 
More than to guide the laboring steer, 
I had not dwelt an outcast here. 
Come, good old Minstrel, follow me ; 
Thy Lord and Chieftain shalt thou see." 

XII. 

Then, from a rusted iron hook, 

A bunch of ponderous keys he took. 

Lighted a torch, and Allan led 

Through grated arch and passage dread. 

Portals they pass'd, where, deep within. 

Spoke prisoner's moan, and fetters' din ; 

Through rugged vaults, where, loosely stored. 

Lay wheel, and ax, and headsman's sword. 

And many an hideous engine grim. 

For wrenching joint, and crushing limb. 

By artist form'd, who deemed it shame 

And sin to give their work a name. 

They halted at a low-brow'd porch. 

And Brent to Allan gave the torch, 

While bolt and chain he backward roll'd. 

And made the bar unhasp its hold. 

They enter'd : — 'twas a prison room 

Of stern security and gloom, 

Yet not a dungeon ; for the day 

Through lofty gratings found its way, 

And rude and antique garniture 

Deck'd the sad walls and oaken floor ; 

Such as the rugged days of old 



172 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

Deem'd fit for captive noble's hold.i 

*' Here," said De Brent, " thou mayst remain 

Till the Leech - visit him again. 

Strict is his charge, the warders tell, 

To tend the noble prisoner well." 

Retiring then, the bolt he drew. 

And the lock's murmurs growl'd anew. 

Roused at the sound, from lowly bed 

A captive feebly raised his head ; 

The wondering Minstrel look'd, and knew — 

Not his dear lord, but Roderick Dim! 

For, come from where Clan- Alpine fought, 

They, erring, deem'd the Chief he sought. 

XIII. 

As the tall ship, whose lofty prore ^ 

Shall never stem the billows more. 

Deserted by her gallant band. 

Amid the breakers hes astrand,* 

So, on his couch, lay Roderick Dhu! 

And oft his fever'd limbs he threw 

In toss abrupt, as when her sides 

Lie rocking in the advancing tides, 

That shake her frame with ceaseless beat, 

Yet cannot heave her from the seat ; — 

Oh, how unhke her course on sea! 

Or his free step on hill and lea! — 

Soon as the Minstrel he could scan, 

*' What of thy lady? — of my clan? — 

My mother? — Douglas? — tell me all. 

Have they been ruin'd in my fall? 

Ah, yes! or wherefore art thou here? 

Yet speak, — speak boldly, — do not fear." — 

Prison. 2 Doctor. 3 Prow. ^ Stranded. 



VI.] THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 173 

(For Allan, who his mood well knew, 

Was choked with grief and terror too.) 

" Who fought — who fled? — Old man, be brief ; — 

Some might — for they had lost their Chief. 

Who basely live? — who bravely died? " — 

" Oh, calm thee. Chief! " the Minstrel cried ; 

" Ellen is safe ;" — " For that, thank Heaven!" — 

" And hopes are for the Douglas given ; — 

The lady Margaret, too, is well ; 

And, for thy clan, — on field or fell. 

Has never harp of minstrel told 

Of combat fought so true and bold. 

Thy stately Pine is yet unbent, 

Though many a goodly bough is rent." 

XIV. 

The Chieftain rear'd his form on high. 

And fever's fire was in his eye ; 

But ghastly, pale, and livid streaks 

Checker'd his swarthy brow and cheeks. 

— " Hark, Minstrel! I have heard thee play, 

With measure bold, on festal day. 

In yon lone isle, . . . again where ne'er 

Shall harper play, or warrior hear! . . . 

That stirring air that peals on high, 

O'er Dermid's^ race our victory. — 

Strike it! — and then, (for well thou canst,) 

Free from thy minstrel spirit glanced, 

Fling me the picture of the fight. 

When met my clan the Saxon might. 

I'll listen, till my fancy hears 

The clang of swords, the crash of spears! 

1 The Campbell clan. The Clan-Alpine, or the MacGregors, and the 
Campbells, were hereditary enemies. 



174 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

These grates, these walls, shall vanish then, 

For the fair field of fighting men, 

And my free spirit burst away. 

As if it soar'd from battle fray." 

The trembling Bard with awe obey'd, — 

Slow on the harp his hand he laid ; 

But soon remembrance of the sight 

He witness'd from the mountain's height, 

With what old Bertram told at night, 

Awaken'd the full power of song. 

And bore him in career along ; — 

As shallop launch'd on river's tide, 

That slow and fearful leaves the side. 

But, when it feels the middle stream. 

Drives downward swift as lightning's beam. 

XV. 

BATTLE OF BEAL' AN DUINE. 

" The Minstrel came once more to view 
The eastern ridge of Benvenue, 
For ere he parted, he would say 
Farewell to lovely Loch Achray — 
Where shall he find, in foreign land, 
So lone a lake, so sweet a strand! 
There is no breeze upon the fern, 

Nor ripple on the lake. 
Upon her eyry nods the erne,i 

The deer has sought the brake ; 
The small birds will not sing aloud, 

The springing trout lies still, 
So darkly glooms yon thunder cloud, 
That swathes, as with a purple shroud, 
Benledi's distant hill. 

1 The sea eagle or ospr ey. 



] THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 175 

Is it the thunder's solemn sound 
That mutters deep and dread, 
Or echoes from the groaning ground 

The warrior's measured tread ? 
Is it the Hghtning's quivering glance 

That on the thicket streams, 
Or do they flash on spear and lance 
The sun's retiring beams ? 
I see the dagger crest of Mar, 
I see the Moray's silver star, 
Wave o'er the cloud of Saxon war, 
That up the lake comes winding far ! 
To hero bound for battle strife, 

Or bard of martial lay, 
'Twere worth ten years of peaceful life, 
One glance at their array! 

XVI. 

" Their light arm'd archers far and near 

Survey'd the tangled ground ; 
Their center ranks, with pike and spear, 

A twilight forest frown 'd ; 
Their barbed 1 horsemen, in the rear, 

The stern battaha^ crown'd. 
No cymbal clash'd, no clarion rang. 

Still were the pipe and drum ; 
Save heavy tread, and armor's clang. 

The sullen march was dumb. 
There breathed no wind their crests to shake, 

Or wave their flags abroad ; 
Scarce the frail aspen seem'd to quake. 

That shadow'd o'er their road. 
Their vaward 3 scouts no tidings bring. 

Can rouse no lurking foe, 
1 Wearing defensive armor. 2 Order of battle. 3 Advance. 



17^ S//\! WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

Nor spy a trace of living thing, 

Save when they stirr'd the roe ; 
The host moves Hke a deep-sea wave, 
Where rise no rocks its pride to brave, 
High sweUing, dark, and slow. 

The lake is pass'd, and now they gain 

A narrow and a broken plain, 

Before the Trosachs' rugged jaws ; 

And here the horse and spearmen pause, 

While, to explore the dangerous glen. 

Dive through the pass the archer men. 

XVII. 

"At once there rose so wild a yell 
Within that dark and narrow dell, 
As all the fiends, from heaven that fell, 
Had peal'd the banner cry of hell! 
Forth from the pass in tumult driven. 
Like chaff before the wind of heaven, 

The archery appear ; 
For life ! for life ! their plight they ply — 
And shriek, and shout, and battle cry. 
And plaids and bonnets waving high, 
And broadswords flashing to the sky. 

Are maddening in the rear. 
Onward they drive, in dreadful race. 
Pursuers and pursued ; 
• Before that tide of flight and chase. 
How shall it keep its rooted place. 

The spearmen's twihght wood ? — 
* Down, down,' cried Mar, 'your lances down! 

Bear back both friend and foe! ' — 
Like reeds before the tempest's frown. 
That serried grove of lances brown 
At once lay level' d low ; 



VI.] THE LADY OF THE LAKE, 177 

And closely shouldering side to side, 
The bristhng ranks the onset bide. — 
* We'll quell the savage mountaineer, 

As their Tinchel 1 cows the game ! 
They come as fleet as forest deer, 

We'll drive them back as tame.' — 



XVIII. 

" Bearing before them, in their course. 
The relics of the archer force, 
Like wave with crest of sparkling foam. 
Right onward did Clan-Alpine come. 
Above the tide, each broadsword bright 
Was brandishing like beam of light, 

Each targe was dark below ; 
And with the ocean's mighty swing, 
When heaving to the tempest's wing. 
They hurl'd them on the foe. 
I heard the lance's shivering crash, 
As when the whirlwind rends the ash ; 
I heard the broadsword's deadly clang. 
As if an hundred anvils rang! 
But Moray wheel'd his rearward rank 
Of horsemen on Clan- Alpine's flank, 
— ' My banner man, advance! 
I see,' he cried, * their column shake. — 
Now, gallants! for your ladies' sake. 

Upon them with the lance!' — 
The horsemen dash'd among the rout. 

As deer break through the broom ; 
Their steeds are stout, their swords are out, 
They soon make Hghtsome room. 

1 A circle of sportsmen surrounding a large space, which was gradually 
narrowed till the game it inclosed was brought within reach. 
12 



178 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

Clan- Alpine's best are backward borne — 

Where, where was Roderick then? 
One blast upon his bugle horn 
Were worth a thousand men. 
And refluent ^ through the pass of fear 

The battle's tide was pour'd ; 
Vanish'd the Saxon's strugghng spear, 

Vanish'd the mountain sword. 
As BrackUnn's chasm, so black and steep, 

Receives her roaring linn. 
As the dark caverns of the deep 
Suck the dark whirlpool in, 
So did the deep and darksome pass 
Devour the battle's mingled mass : 
None linger now upon the plain, 
Save those who ne'er shall fight again. 

XIX. 

" Now westward rolls the battle's din. 
That deep and doubhng pass within. 
— Minstrel, away ! the work of fate 
Is bearing on : its issue wait, 
Where the rude Trosachs' dread defile 
Opens on Katrine's lake and isle. 
Gray Benvenue I soon repass'd, 
Loch Katrine lay beneath me cast. 

The sun is set ; — the clouds are met. 
The lowering scowl of heaven 

An inky hue of livid blue 
To the deep lake has given ; 
Strange gusts of wind from mountain glen 
Swept o'er the lake, then sunk agen. 
I heeded not the eddying surge, 
Mine eye but saw the Trosachs' gorge, 
1 Flowing back. 



VI. J THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 179 

Mine ear but heard that sullen sound, 
Which like an earthquake shook the ground, 
And spoke the stern and desperate strife 
That parts not but with parting life, 
Seeming, to minstrel ear, to toll 
The dirge of many a passing soul. 

Nearer it comes — the dim-wood glen 

The martial flood disgorged agen, 
But not in mingled tide ; 

The plaided warriors of the North 

High on the mountain thunder forth 
And overhang its side ; 

While by the lake below appears 

The dark'ning cloud of Saxon spears. 

At weary bay each shatter'd band. 

Eying their foemen, sternly stand; 

Their banners stream like tatter'd sail, 

That flings its fragments to the gale. 

And broken arms and disarray 

Mark'd the fell havoc of the day. 

XX. 

** Viewing the mountain's ridge askance. 
The Saxon stood in sullen trance. 
Till Moray pointed with his lance. 

And cried — ' Behold yon isle! — 
See! none are left to guard its strand. 
But women weak, that wring the hand : 
'Tis there of yore the robber band 

Their booty wont to pile ; — 
My purse, with bonnet pieces 1 store. 
To him will swim a bowshot o'er, 
And loose a shallop from the shore. 

1 A bonnet piece is an elegant gold coin, bearing on one side the head of 
James V. wearing a bonnet. 



l8o S//^ WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

Lightly we'll tame the war wolf then, 
Lords of his mate, and brood, and den.' — 
Forth from the ranks a spearman sprung, 
On earth his casque and corselet rung. 

He plunged him in the wave : — 
All saw the deed — the purpose knew, 
And to their clamors Benvenue 

A mingled echo gave ; 
The Saxons shout, their mate to cheer. 
The helpless females scream for fear. 
And yells for rage the mountaineer. 
'Twas then, as by the outcry riven, 
Pour'd down at once the lowering heaven ; 
A whirlwind swept Loch Katrine's breast, 
Her billows rear'd their snowy crest. 
Well for the swimmer swell'd they high. 
To mar the Highland marksman's eye ; 
For round him shower'd, 'mid rain and hail. 
The vengeful arrows of the Gael. — 
In vain — He nears the isle — and lo! 
His hand is on a shallop's bow. 
— Just then a flash of hghtning came. 
It tinged the waves and strand with flame ; — 
I mark'd Duncraggan's widow'd dame — 
Behind an oak I saw her stand, 
A naked dirk gleami'd in her hand : 
It darken'd, — but, amid the moan 
Of waves, I heard a dying groan ; 
Another flash ! — the spearman floats 
A weltering corse beside the boats. 
And the stern matron o'er him stood. 
Her hand and dagger streaming blood. 



VI.] 7 HE LADY OF THE LAKE. l8l 

XXI. 

"'Revenge! revenge!' the Saxons cried — 

The Gael's exulting shout replied. 

Despite the elemental rage, 

Again they hurried to engage ; 

But, ere they closed in desperate fight, 

Bloody with spurring came a knight. 

Sprung from his horse, and, from a crag, 

Waved 'twixt the hosts a milk-white flag. 

Clarion and trumpet by his side 

Rung forth a truce note high and wide, 

While, in the Monarch's name, afar 

An herald's voice forbade the war, 

For Bothwell's lord, and Roderick bold, 

Were both, he said, in captive hold." 

— But here the lay made sudden stand. 

The harp escaped the Minstrel's hand! — 

Oft had he stolen a glance, to spy 

How Roderick brook'd his minstrelsy : 

At first, the Chieftain, to the chime, 

With lifted hand, kept feeble time ; 

That motion ceased, — yet feehng strong 

Varied his look as changed the song ; 

At length, no more his deafen'd ear 

The minstrel melody can hear ; 

His face grows sharp, — his hands are clench'd. 

As if some pang his heartstrings wrench'd ; 

Set are his teeth, his fading eye 

Is sternly fix'd on vacancy ; 

Thus, motionless, and moanless, drew 

His parting breath, stout Roderick Dhu! — 

Old Allan-Bane look'd on aghast. 

While grim and still his spirit pass'd : 

But when he saw that life was fled. 

He pour'd his wailing o'er the dead. 



82 S//^ WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

XXII. 
LAMENT. 

"And art thou cold and lowly laid, 
Thy foeman's dread, thy people's aid, 
Breadalbane's ^ boast, Clan- Alpine's shade ! 
For thee shall none a requiem say ? — 
For thee, — who loved the Minstrel's lay, 
For thee, of Bothwell's house the stay, 
The shelter of her exiled line ? 
E'en in this prison house of thine, 
I'll wail for Alpine's honor'd Pine! 

"What groans shall yonder valleys fill! 
What shrieks of grief shall rend yon hill! 
What tears of burning rage shall thrill. 
When mourns thy tribe thy battles done. 
Thy fall before the race was won, 
Thy sword ungirt ere set of sun! 
There breathes not clansman of thy line. 
But would have given his life for thine. — 
Oh, woe for Alpine's honor'd Pine! 

" Sad was thy lot on mortal stage ! — 
The captive thrush may brook the cage. 
The prison'd eagle dies for rage. 
Brave spirit, do not scorn my strain! 
And, when its notes awake again, • 
Even she, so long beloved in vain, 
Shall with my harp her voice combine, 
And mix her woe and tears with mine, 
To wail Clan- Alpine's honor'd Pine." — 

1 The region bordering Loch Tay. 



VI.] THE LADY OF 7YIE LAKE. 1 83 

XXIII. 

Ellen, the while, with bursting heart, 

Remain'd in lordly bower apart, 

Where play'd, with many-colored gleams, 

Through storied 1 pane the rising beams. 

In vain on gilded roof they fall, 

And hghten'd up a tapestried wall. 

And for her use a menial train 

A rich collation spread in vain. 

The banquet proud, the chamber gay, 

Scarce drew one curious glance astray ; 

Or if she look'd, 'twas but to say. 

With better omen dawn'd the day 

In that lone isle, where waved on high 

The dun deer's hide for canopy ; 

Where oft her noble father shared ' 

The simple meal her care prepared. 

While Lufra, crouching by her side. 

Her station claim'd with jealous pride. 

And Douglas, bent on woodland game, 

Spoke of the chase to Malcolm Graeme, 

Whose answer, oft at random made. 

The wandering of his thoughts betray'd. — 

Those who such simple joys have known. 

Are taught to prize them when they're gone. 

But sudden, see, she lifts her head ! 

The window seeks with cautious tread. 

What distant music has the power 

To win her in this woeful hour! 

'Twas from a turret that o'erhung 

Her latticed bower, the strain was sung. 

1 Stained or painted to form pictures illustrating history. 



184 SIR WALTER SCOTT. 

XXIV. 
LAY OF THE IMPRISONED HUNTSMAN. 

** My hawk is tired of perch and hood, 
My idle greyhound loathes his food, 
My horse is weary of his stall, 
And I am sick of captive thrall. 
I wish I were, as I have been, 
Hunting the hart in forest green. 
With bended bow and bloodhound free, 
For that's the life is meet for me. 

" I hate to learn the ebb of time. 
From yon dull steeple's drowsy chime. 
Or mark it as the sunbeams crawl, 
Inch after inch, along the wall. 
The lark was wont my matins ring, 
The sable rook my vespers sing ; 
These towers, although a king's they be, 
Have not a hall of joy for me. 

" No more at dawning mom I rise, 
And sun myself in Ellen's eyes. 
Drive the fleet deer the forest through. 
And homeward wend with evening dew ; 
A blithesome welcome blithely meet. 
And lay my trophies at her feet. 
While fled the eve on wing of glee, — 
That life is lost to love and me! " 

XXV. 

The heart-sick lay was hardly said, 
The hst'ner had not turn'd her head, 
It trickled still, the starting tear, 
When light a footstep struck her ear, 



LCANTO 



VI. J THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 185 

And Snowdoun's graceful Knight was near. 

She turn'd the hastier, lest again 

The prisoner should renew his strain. 

"Oh, welcome, brave Fitz-James! " she said; 

" How may an almost orphan maid 

Pay the deep debt " — " Oh, say not sol 

To me no gratitude you owe. 

Not mine, alas! the boon to give, 

And bid thy noble father live ; 

I can but be thy guide, sweet maid, 

With Scotland's King thy suit to aid. 

No tyrant he, though ire and pride 

May lay his better mood aside. 

Come, Ellen, come! 'tis more than time — 

He holds his court at morning prime." 

With beating heart, and bosom wrung, 

As to a brother's arm she clung. 

Gently he dried the falling tear. 

And gently whisper'd hope and cheer ; 

Her faltering steps half led, half stayed,^ 

Through gallery fair and high arcade, 

Till, at his touch, its wings of pride 

A portal arch unfolded wide. 

XXVI. 

Within 'twas brilliant all and light, 
A thronging scene of figures bright ; 
It glow'd on Ellen's dazzled sight, 
As when the setting sun has given 
Ten thousand hues to summer even. 
And from their tissue, fancy frames 
Aerial - knights and fairy dames. 
Still by Fitz-James her footing staid ; 

1 Supported. 2 Fanciful; imaginary. 



1 86 SIJ^ WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

A few faint steps she forward made, 
Then slow her drooping head she raised, 
And fearful round the presence ^ gazed ; 
For him she sought, who own'd this state, 
The dreaded Prince, whose will was fate! — 
She gazed on many a princely port, 
Might well have ruled a royal court ; 
On many a splendid garb she gazed. 
Then turn'd bewilder'd and amazed. 
For all stood bare ; and, in the room, 
Fitz-James alone wore cap and plume. 
To him each lady's look was lent ; 
On him each courtier's eye was bent ; 
Midst furs, and silks, and jewels sheen, 
He stood, in simple Lincoln green. 
The center of the glittering ring, — 
And Snowdoun's Knight ^ is Scotland's King. 

XXVIL 

As wreath of snow, on mountain breast. 
Slides from the rock that gave it rest, 
Poor Ellen glided from her stay,. 
And at the Monarch's feet she lay ; 
No word her choking voice commands, — 
She show'd the ring — she clasp'd her hands. 
Oh! not a moment could he brook. 
The generous Prince, that suppHant look! 
Gently he raised her; and, the while, 
Check'd with a glance the circle's smile ; 
Graceful, but grave, her brow he kiss'd, 
And bade her terrors be dismiss'd : — 

1 Presence chamber of the King. 

2 James V. was accustomed to make personal investigation of the condi- 
tion of his people. The name he generally assumed when in disguise was 
** Laird of Ballingeich. " 



VI.] THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 187 

" Yes, Fair ; the wandering poor Fitz-James 

The fealty of Scotland claims. 

To him thy woes, thy wishes, bring ; 

He will redeem his signet ring. 

Ask naught for Douglas ; yestereven, 

His Prince and he have much forgiven : 

Wrong hath he had from slanderous tongue — 

I, from his rebel kinsmen, wrong. 

We would not, to the vulgar crowd, 

Yield what they craved with clamor loud ; 

Calmly we heard and judged his cause, 

Our council aided, and our laws. 

I stanch'd thy father's death-feud stern 

With stout De Vaux and gray Glencairn ; 

And Bothwell's Lord henceforth we own 

The friend and bulwark of our Throne. — 

But, lovely infidel, how now? 

What clouds thy misbelieving brow? 

Lord James of Douglas, lend thine aid ; 

Thou must confirm this doubting maid." 

XXVIII. 

Then forth the noble Douglas sprung, 
And on his neck his daughter hung. 
The Monarch drank, that happy hour, 
The sweetest, holiest draught of Power, — 
When it can say, with godlike voice. 
Arise, sad Virtue, and rejoice! 
Yet would not James the general eye 
On Nature's raptures long should pry ; 
He stepp'd between — " Nay, Douglas, nay, 
Steal not my proselyte away ! 
The riddle 'tis my right to read. 
That brought this happy chance to speed.* 
1 Successful issue. 



1 88 SIR WALTER SCOTT. [canto 

Yes, Ellen, when disguised I stray 

In life's more low but happier way, 

'Tis under name which veils my power ; 

Nor falsely veils — for Stirling's tower 

Of yore the name of Snowdoun claims, 

And Normans call me James Fitz- James. 

Thus watch I o'er insulted laws. 

Thus learn to right the injured cause."' — 

Then, in a tone apart and low, — 

"Ah, little traitress! none must know 

What idle dream, what hghter thought, 

What vanity full dearly bought, 

Join'd to thine eye's dark witchcraft, drew 

My spellbound steps to Benvenue, 

In dangerous hour, and all but gave 

Thy Monarch's life to mountain glaive!" — 

Aloud he spoke, — "Thou still dost hold 

That little talisman of gold, 

Pledge of my faith, Fitz -James's ring — 

What seeks fair Ellen of the King? " 

XXIX. 

Full well the conscious maiden guess'd 

He probed the weakness of her breast ; 

But, with that consciousness, there came 

A hghtening of her fears for Graeme, 

And more she deem'd the Monarch's ire 

Kindled 'gainst him, who, for her sire, 

Rebellious broadsword boldly drew ; 

And, to her generous feehng true. 

She craved the grace of Roderick Dhu. 

" Forbear thy suit : — the King of kings 

Alone can stay life's parting wings. 

I know his heart, I know his hand, 

Have shared his cheer, and proved his brand ; — 



VI.] THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 189 

My fairest earldom would I give 
To bid Clan- Alpine's Chieftain live! — 
Hast thou no other boon to crave? 
No other captive friend to save? " 
Blushing, she turn'd her from the King, 
And to the Douglas gave the ring, 
As if she wish'd her sire to speak 
The suit that stain'd her glowing cheek. — 
" Nay, then, my pledge has lost its force. 
And stubborn Justice holds her course. — 
Malcolm, come forth!" — and, at the word, 
Down kneel'd the Graeme to Scotland's Lord. 
** For thee, rash youth, no suppliant sues, 
From thee may Vengeance claim her dues, 
Who, nurtured underneath our smile, 
Hast paid our care by treacherous wile. 
And sought, amid thy faithful clan, 
A refuge for an outlaw'd man. 
Dishonoring thus thy loyal name. — 
Fetters and warder for the Graeme! " — 
His chain of gold the King unstrung. 
The links o'er Malcolm's neck he flung. 
Then gently drew the glittering band. 
And laid the clasp on Ellen's hand. 

Harp of the North, farewell! The hills grow dark. 

On purple peaks a deeper shade descending ; 
In twilight copse the glowworm lights her spark. 

The deer, half seen, are to the covert wending. 
Resume thy wizard elm! the fountain lending. 

And the wild breeze, thy wilder minstrelsy ; 
Thy numbers sweet with Nature's vespers blending. 

With distant echo from the fold and lea, 
And herd-boy's evening pipe, and hum of housing ^ bee. 

1 Returning to the hive. 



igo SlJi WALTER SCOTT. [canto vi. 

Yet, once again, farewell, thou Minstrel Harp! 

Yet, once again, forgive my feeble sway! 
And little reck I of the censure sharp 

May idly cavil at an idle lay. 
Much have I owed thy strains on life's long way, 

Through secret woes the world has never known, 
When on the weary night dawn'd wearier day. 

And bitterer was the grief devour'd alone. 
That I o'eriived such woes, Enchantress! is thine own. 

Hark! as my hngering footsteps slow retire, 

Some Spirit of the Air has waked thy string! 
'Tis now a seraph bold, with touch of fire — 

'Tis now the brush of Fairy's frolic wing. 
Receding now, the dying numbers ring 

Fainter and fainter down the rugged dell. 
And now the mountain breezes scarcely bring 

A wandering witch note of the distant spell — 
And now, 'tis silent all! — Enchantress, fare thee well! 



GLOSSARY. 



Arcade. A series of arches sup- 
ported by columns or piers, either 
open or backed by masonry. 

Augury, i. The art or practice of 
foretelh'ng events. 2. An omen or 
prediction. 

Barret cap. A kind of cap or head 
gear formerly worn by soldiers. 

Battlement. A wall or rampart 
around the top of a castle, with 
openings to look through and annoy 
the enemy. 

Black-jack. A capacious drinking 
cup or can formerly made of waxed 
leather. 

Bracken. Large coarse fern. 

Bulwark. A rampart ; a fortifica- 
tion. 

Carpet knight. A person knighted 
on some other ground than that of 
military service ; a knight who has 
not known the hardships of war. 

Close. To grapple ; to come to close 
quarters in fight. 

Coif. A kind of cap worn by Scot- 
tish matrons. 

Crest, i. The plume or decoration 
on the top of a helmet. 2. The 
device over a coat of arms. 3. The 
ridge of the neck of a horse or dog. 

Dicer. A gamester. 



Drawbridge. A bridge at the en- 
trance of a castle, which, when low- 
ered by chains, gave access across 
the moat or ditch surrounding the 
structure. 

Embossed. (A technical hunting 
term.) Flecked or spotted with 
foam. 

Favor. Something which was be- 
stowed as a token of good will or 
of love, as a glove or a knot of rib- 
bon, to be worn habitually by a 
knight-errant. 

Feint. (A technical fencing term.) 
A seeming aim at one part when it 
is intended to strike another. 

Feudal. Pertaining to that political 
form in which there was a chain of 
persons holding land of one another 
on condition of performing certain 
services. Every man in the chain 
was bound to his immediate su- 
perior, held land from him, took 
oath of allegiance to him, and be- 
came his man. 

Flourish. A trumpet call ; a fan- 
fare or prelude by one or more 
trumpets performed on the ap- 
proach of any person of distinction. 

Frontlet. The front of a stag's 
head : the horns. 



191 



192 



GLOSSARY. 



Guard. In fencing, a position of 
passive defense. 

Halberd. A long-handled weapon 
armed with a steel point, and hav- 
ing a crosspiece of steel with a cut- 
ting edge. 

Henchman. A groom ; an attendant 
or follower. 

Jack. An upper garment of leather, 
worn for defense by common sol- 
diers. It was sometimes strength- 
ened by small pieces of metal 
stitched into it. 

Jennet. A small Spanish horse. 

Ken. Sight ; knowledge. 

Law. "To give law" to a stag is 
to allow it a start of a certain dis- 
tance or time before the hounds are 
slipped, the object being to insure 
a long chase. 

Mew. a cage for hawks while mew- 
ing or moulting : hence an inclosure, 
a place of confinement. 

Pass. (A term in fencing.) To 
thrust with a sword. 

Pennon. A swallow-tailed flag or 
streamer. 

PoLEAX. An ax fixed to a pole or 
handle. It was formerly used by 
mounted soldiers. 

Prime. In the Roman Catholic 
Church the first canonical hour of 
prayer, six o'clock in the morning, 
generally the first quarter of the 
day. 



Quarterstaff. a stout staff used 
as a weapon of defense. In using 
it, one hand was placed in the mid- 
dle, and the other halfway between 
the middle and the end. 

Signet, i. A seal. 2. A ring con- 
taining a signet or private seal. 

Slip. To let slip: to loose hands from 
the noose ; to be sent in pursuit of 
game. 

Squire. An attendant upon a knight. 

Stirrup cup. A cup of wine drunk 
on parting from a friend on horse- 
back. 

Store. (An obsolete adjective.) Ac- 
cumulated ; stored up. 

Strath. A valley of considerable 
size, through which a river flows. 

Targe. Target-shield. 

TiNEMAN. An officer of the forest, 
who had the nocturnal care of vert 
and venison. 

Troll, i. A song the parts of which 
are sung in succession ; a round. 
2. To sing in the manner of a catch 
or round, also in a full, jovial voice. 

Vair. The skin of the squirrel, much 
used in the fourteenth century as 
fur for garments. 

Vantage coign. A position of ad- 
vantage for observing or operating. 

Ward. A guarding or defensive po- 
sition or motion in fencing. 

Warder. One who wards or keeps. 

Whinyard. a short sword or knife. 



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